Everything he deserves
by Lilyflower00
Summary: The very Moment Harry was left at the doorstep of Number four, Privet drive, the protection of his mother and his own, aleready powerful magical core, did their duty. As the main reason of their existence was to protect Harry, they sent him away, to a place where he would be provided with love, a family, and - most importantly - the childhood he deserved. No!Bashing; Violence;
1. Arrival - Prolouge

**Hello human beings who are reading this ;)**

 **This is going to be a Harry Potter / Lord of the Rings Crossover Fanfic. I have (wow, an update ^^) read all of the Lord of the Rings Books, and the hobbit, though not the original English version. I sadly don't possess that wonderful work of art, only the translated Edition. I have all of the Harry Potter Books (At least six times each :D) and I'm fairly sure you could call me a fanatic. I've been watching all of the movies in both series and I just love them.**

 **So, I thought, that maybe there were some people interested in my ideas. I'm really sorry, if there are any similarities to other fanfictions. If there are, I didn't plan on it.**

 **Any similarities between a character of mine and an actual person (living or not) are written unintentionally and not on purpose.**

 _ **!There will be violence. When it gets really brutal, I will warn you at the beginning of the chapter. Please look out for that if you don't like these kinds of scenes!**_

 **I have to admit that English is only my second language. But I do have a beta-reader so my English shouldn't be too terrible.**

 **I'm not always going on canon-Pairings, but I will do it a lot. Harry/Ginny will be an important part of the story. I hope that won't keep too much people away, as I know there are quite a lot Harry/Hermione shippers out there.**

 **I will be answering Reviews at the end of my chapters and updating as often as it's possible for me.**

 **I own neither Lord of the Rings, nor Harry Potter, as if I did, I would be rich and famous and not writing Fanfictions to satisfy my little Fangirl-heart. If there are any similarities between phrases in my story and the Books of either series, it's probably not mine, but borrowed.**

 **Italic written phrases will most likely be Sindarin, I hope you won't mind that (Translating English to Sindarin is sooo hard. The dictionary I used didn't even have an elvish word for 'you'), except for the HP-quote in the beginning. I just marked it to make clear, what is part of the book.**

 **Yeah, that's pretty much all information I give to give you. Anyway, here's my Prologue, enjoy :D**

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" _I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply._

 _Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four._

" _Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone._

 _A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on. (Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone, Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived)_

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Harry may not have been aware of the fact that right at this moment, remaining Death Eaters were trying to reach the Dursleys' house. He may also not have been aware of the fact that his relatives would be treating him as badly as possible from his first day with them should they have taken him in. However, the protection of his mother, as well as his own powerful magical core, knew all of these things.

As they were both there for a main reason – to protect Harry – the two mighty, extremely magical, forces did what you could call accidental magic. They brought him far away to a safe place, a place where he would be given love and protection, where he would be prepared for his destiny. His destiny to fight.

If somebody in Privet Drive had, for whatever reason, been looking outside the window at this particular time, he would have seen nothing but darkness, for in front of Number Four was a hole that swallowed every bit of light. It was through this very hole that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was transported, without ever being woken. In fact, Harry had a rather pleasant dream involving his father, godfather and a fabulous toy broomstick. When he finally landed on damp leaves over a mossy ground, he merely turned around in his blankets, dreamily wondering why mummy hadn't stood up after the strange man left.

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A lone Elf wandering around was not an unfamiliar sight in Mirkwood. What _was_ an unfamiliar sight in Mirkwood, however, was that _this_ Elf was wandering around alone, for this Elf was Legolas, the Elven Prince of Mirkwood, and he was usually surrounded by a great amount of friends.

However, today, Legolas had felt like going out alone. It was nearly as if a voice was calling out to him. What he didn't know, was that there was indeed a voice calling for him—as much as Harry's magic could have a voice. Curious about the source of this feeling, Legolas had sneaked out before anyone else was awake to ensure that he would be truly alone. All his senses on high alert, and he recognised everything as normal as it could be in a place where Elves live. But wait… did he just hear a child? A sobbing child?

Cautious, he crept nearer. Maybe this was some sort of trick? But no—he saw it. There in the middle of his favourite glade lay a bundle of strangely coloured blankets that was, without doubt, moving. Concern for an innocent life and curiosity overtook his mind. With light steps, he approached the little thing and took a look at it. It looked and sounded like it belonged to the race of Men. No pointed ears in sight. The child's eyes were closed, and his mouth was wide open in a scream of desperation.

 _'Who could be cruel enough, to leave a toddler alone in Mirkwood, when the spiders are no longer remaining in their former territory? Who would leave this poor, innocent child alone in the wilderness?'_

Legolas' heart ached at the mere thought of leaving him there on the cold ground with no one to comfort him. Carefully, he took the bundle in his strong, battle-experienced arms and tried to remember everything he had ever heard of caressing babies. There hadn't been children amongst the elves for many decades, so he did not have practical experience. He had to rely on his theoretical knowledge. He would probably give the child to one of the more aged Elves who had the honour of raising an elven child. Yes, that would be the best for him and the child.

However, as he gently rocked the baby in his arms, all his plans faded into nothingness as the small boy stopped crying and opened his eyes. They were of a brilliant, emerald green, and just so pure and innocent, that it even beat the look in most of the Elves' eyes. And yet, there seemed something odd about the way the child looked. It was almost as if he had already seen great agony and suffered more than any child at this age should have. Legolas knew that the moment he saw into this eyes, there was no way he would let himself be separated from this boy. Even if it would mean learning how to change diapers. His eyes fell on the floor and Legolas was startled to see a letter lying there on the damp mossy ground. He shrugged before he reached down with the baby still in his arms. The little boy let out a squeal of joy as soon as Legolas had moved. He obviously liked being up there.

A small hand tried to grab his long hair and he barely had time to bring it to safety. The little boy disapproved. He made a face and whimpered something that sounded like: 'Pafoo, Hawy hav hair!' Legolas didn't really understand this baby-language. He wasn't that fluent in the common-tongue either, so there was no point trying to understand the meaning of this.

" _Do not worry, little one_. _No harm shall_ _come near you."_

He looked around on the glade for a bit, the baby in his arms but when he found no signs of anything or anyone that could have possibly left a human toddler here, he shrugged and turned to go back home.

Faster than he had arrived– as well as much more careful – Legolas made his way back home. As it was still too early for breakfast, Legolas knew that his father would be in his study, so without hesitation, he made his way to his father's favourite room. He knocked hurriedly and opened the door without waiting for a proper "come in".

Legolas had expected many situations in which he might have found his father, but one thing he hadn't thought of was the presence of Mithrandir. Both of them had huge maps spread out on the table and were looking at him in surprise, as if they were having an important discussion. Legolas gulped and stepped into the room. He couldn't go back now, not that he had already disturbed them.

" _Legolas,_ _what a pleasant surprise_!"

Well, good, the Istar didn't seem to be upset by his sudden appearance.

" _Legolas, join us. What is it that you carry in your arms?"_

Legolas nearly let out a sigh of relief. His father wasn't upset either. That was good.

" _I found a small child, not much more than a toddler, alone in the forest, with only this envelope next to him. There was no sign of anybody who could have brought him there."_

" _Let me see him."_

Legolas hesitated for a moment and felt the strong urge to never let go of the child – it looked so fragile, as if it could break if you made one wrong move. But then he thought better of it. His father had to have at least some experience – maybe even a little more than some - with babies. He gave the toddler, who had been playing with his hair, to his father. The Istar looked concerned over Thranduil's shoulder, straight at the Baby.

" _I feel something evil around this child. But when I look in his eyes, he is innocent. How very curious."_

Legolas watched as his father reached out with his hand to put away the corner of the blanket that covered the child's forehead. Both elder men gasped at whatever was revealed to them. Legolas sight was blocked by Mithrandir so he couldn't see what caused their reaction.

 _"What is the matter? Is it something bad?"_

Mithrandir looked up, a merry twinkle in his eye. His looked knowingly at Legolas.

 _"Looks as if this little boy found somebody who cares about him."_

If Legolas hadn't been an elf, he would have blushed. But elves didn't blush easily, so he merely nodded. His father looked up and held the boy so that Legolas could see what they had been looking at. There was a cut in the form of a lightning bolt on the child's forehead. It felt odd to look at, as if the cut was something evil.

" _You said something about a letter, Legolas?"_

" _Yes, I have it here, father. May I see what is inside too?"_

" _Come here, we will read it together."_

Thranduil broke the green seal, which had with four animals placed around a 'H' on it. He took out a few sheets of thick, yellowish paper and held it so that all three of them could read the words written on it. It was a strange sort of dialect, but it was similar enough to the common tongue to be understood. The handwriting was neat, narrow and curvy.

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 **Dear Petunia,**

 **It is in great grief that I now write you this letter.**

 **On the night of Halloween, the 31st of October 1981, your sister Lily Potter nee Evans and her husband James Potter lost their lives in their home in Godric's Hollow.**

 **This boy is your nephew, Harry James Potter, born on the 31st of July, 1980.**

 **Were it not for him, I would not tell you the exact circumstances of their deaths. However, it is very important for you to know that little Harry is in great danger if you do not take him into your family.**

 **I do not know how deep your dislike of your sister goes, so I don't know if she ever told you about the war in the wizarding world.**

 **The Dark Lord Voldemort, a man who has gone beyond the normal evilness has murdered your sister and her husband due to a prophecy which predicted that Harry will one day defeat him.** **The Potters went into hiding, but Sirius Black, their secret keeper, betrayed them by revealing their location to Voldemort.**

 **As you may know, Sirius once was the best friend of James, so if one day he knocks on your door, make sure he never gets to know Harry's location.**

 **We can only guess at what had happened, but from the position of James' body, we can tell that he died protecting Lily and Harry.**

 **I came to see the catastrophe right away. I could see in Harry's memories that Lily was killed in front of Harry's crib. Voldemort told her to stand aside, but she wouldn't go.**

 **When Voldemort killed her, her love formed one of the strongest protections in the universe.** **The killing curse – which is normally impossible to ward off and is one of the most dangerous and vilest curses – could not get past this shield of pure love and sacrifice. Voldemort vanished when the killing curse rebounded. I can only hope that he is dead.**

 **Petunia, if you, as his last blood-relative, take Harry into your house, I will be able to erect wards based on a protection that would protect not only Harry, but also your family.**

 **There are still followers of Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters, out there, who aspire nothing more than Harry's death to avenge their master.**

 **I beg you, for Lily's sake, to provide him love and care as if he was your own.**

 **Someday he will have to face Voldemort, and a loving family who will stand behind him will be the strongest help you can provide.** **So much depends on him. Make his years away from Hogwarts and the wizarding world as care free as possible. Give him a part of the childhood he deserves.** **As soon as he comes to Hogwarts, he will have to carry more burdens than most grown-ups do.**

 **Help him. Help Lily's son. Help her own flesh and blood. She would want it. Being good to Harry would be the best apology you can make for everything that had happened between both of you.**

 **Lily will see wherever she is now, and she will forgive you your jealousy that has driven you two apart since the day she got her letter and entered the wizarding world.**

 **I beg you, Petunia.** **For your sister Lily.**

 **In great grief,**

 **Albus Dumbledore**

 **P.S.: I have included his birth certificate and a few photos of his parents and their friends.**

 **His parents had left with me a letter for him. I put it in the envelope with this letter. Please give it to Harry as soon as he's ready. He will love to have something from them.**

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Glum silence was met at the end of the letter. How was that possible? A female wizard? There haven't been any evil wizards lately and no wizard died recently (as they are immortal). There was also no place called Hogwarts where you would enter something called wizarding world. This letter made – apart from the boy's parents' death – absolutely no sense.

Legolas looked down on the boy in his fathers' arms. His heart ached at the thought of him defeating some mad murderer. He never felt that way to anybody, but somehow he wanted to be the one who provided the child a loving home. Those emerald, fascinating eyes looked up to him and he couldn't help but smile at the sight.

" _So Harry is your name, little one?"_

The toddler squealed in delight and said again something that Legolas couldn't translate.

"Hawy! Pafoo fly! Hawy bwoom!"

Mithrandir smiled at the boy. Apparently he had understood at least something Harry had said.

"You can fly, Harry?"

"Hawy Quiddish! Hawy flyaw!"

" _Could I take him again, father?"_

Thranduil looked up and met his son's eyes. He gave a short nod and handed the toddler over.

" _You already care greatly for the boy, Legolas."_

" _Yes father, I do."_

" _Well, as he obviously wasn't taken by his aunt, he does need a guardian. Would you watch over him until we find a proper solution?"_

" _Of course father, it would be an honour."_

' _Maybe,'_ Legolas thought, _'it is his magic that makes me like him.'_ But he dismissed that quickly. It didn't feel like that. These feelings could not be created by any kind of magic, dark or light. Love could not be forged by anyone, not even by the Valar.

It had been clear from the beginning that it was not very likely for Legolas to have a child so soon. But now, he had one. He liked the thought of that. Little Harry James Potter was his child. Maybe, someday, he would even be a father to little Harry.

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 **Wow, that's it with the prologue :)**

 **I hope some people like it, I look forward to a review. If you have something to criticize, something to compliment, or even something to let off steam about, I'd love to hear from you :)**

 **Please don't be too hard to me if there are any minor mistakes, though you can always tell me about them. I'll be happy to correct everything in my story. I hope my English isn't too horrible to bear.**

 **Again, if there is anybody out there, who would like to spend time on my Story and be my Beta-Reader, please contact me :)**

 **See you next chapter :)**


	2. An extraordinary birthday - 1

**Hello**

 **Now, here's the second chapter, Reviews are going to be answered in the end:**

 **Enjoy ;)**

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Harry was soon very popular amongst the elves. The letter from the mysterious Dumbledore-man lay nearly forgotten and Harry had made his way silently into the hearts of every inhabitant of the wood-elves palace.

He loved playing outside and would always try to climb the highest trees, though most of his attempts failed before he could go higher than seven feet. One of Harry's favourite activities was to help in the kitchen and sometimes even snatch some food. When he was neither in the gardens nor cooking he was very likely to be found in his room. There he would play with his wooden toy-sword or try to read the Sindarin phrases in his books.

He was good at learning languages. Sometimes Harry would still use his twisted dialect of common tongue, but he had learned Sindarin pretty quickly. Faster than you would usually expect such a young child to learn a complex and old language, but nobody thought twice about that. The Elves were merely impressed and called him very intelligent.

Nobody noticed anything odd or suspicious around Harry until he was in Mirkwood for a few years. But even this incident was nothing spectacular. He had been outside at the time, practicing tracking animals with his guardian.

Harry had let out a scream. Legolas had rushed around to see what happened, but it was apparently a squeal of joy about something lying in the boy's hand. Harry's adoptive father had come nearer and saw it. There was a daisy in his hand, and its petals were opening and closing just like the shells of an oyster. Legolas dismissed the event as unimportant, as nothing like that happened anymore.

No one but Mithrandir, Thranduil, and Legolas knew that there was something special about Harry. That was, until the 31st of October after his sixth birthday, exactly one year after the flower-incident.

Harry had gone missing. He wasn't found in his room, the gardens or the kitchens. A wave of panic rushed through the wood-elves' palace – after all, the time they were living in was anything but peaceful. Everyone was looking for the child. He wasn't supposed to leave his room that day as Legolas couldn't watch over him, having gone out to hunt.

Harry was found in the library, flying through the air along with pretty much all the books in the whole place. It took half of the year to sort everything on its right spot again. Mithrandir was contacted shortly after the incident. In his presence Harry was asked once again about how he had done this, but all the elves could get out of him was that he just wished really hard to see all the books at once. The letter was taken much more seriously after the so-called Library incident.

Soon, Harry was told, that he would receive training to control his magic whenever Mithrandir was available. Sadly, thought Harry, this wasn't very often. He was told that Mithrandir was a very important person, and many people needed his help, so Harry didn't get too upset about this. After all, he had more time to play with his Dad when Mithrandir wasn't there.

He loved to spend time with his dad. He would tell him stories, teach him how to read, go outside with him and even show him how to make little slingshots. But every little while he would get a little bit sad, that his father and his Mum weren't there. He had read their Letter so many times, that he knew it by heart, but he couldn't help but look at it every time before he got to bed. It was almost like a ritual.

He would get ready for bed, give his dad a hug and a kiss and then he would lie down and someone would tell him a story. Sometimes his Dad would read, sometimes Maechenebil, the woman he helped in the garden, or the cook, Saelon. Then, he would thank whoever had spoken and when he was alone, he would read the letter in the moonlight, kiss both signatures softly and return the paper into the box hidden under his bed. There were only a few things in this box: the blanket he had worn when he'd turned up in the forest, a photo album with photos of his parents and their friends (it fell out of the envelope with the letters when Harry examined it further at the age of four. He hadn't found out how it had fitted inside the much too small envelope), the little bow his dad had given him on his first birthday in Mirkwood, the first slingshot he and his Dad had made together and – of course – the letter. Nobody but Harry had ever got a look at it.

Currently Harry lay in his comfortable bed in his room that was already flooded with light – a sign that he had been able to sleep longer than usually... Why hadn't his Dad woken him up for breakfast like always?

He opened his eyes and felt around on his nightstand for the healing draught that improved his vision for a day. After he drank the potion (it didn't taste of anything, not even of nothing), he got up, still a little bit sleepy, and went to the basin and jug of water. After he had thoroughly washed his face, he put some clothes on, ready to face and enjoy a new day.

That was the moment his calendar caught his eye. Today was the 31st of July. His seventh day! A huge grin appeared on his face and he went looking for his Dad, even more enthusiastic than before. It was very unlikely for him to be in his rooms, as he normally got up even earlier than Harry, but, decided the birthday-boy, it was a good place to start searching.

They always did this on his birthday. His Dad (and Harry's other friends, along with his presents) would be somewhere in the huge palace and Harry had to find him. Harry loved searching things. It was one of his favourite games to sit in the gardens with somebody and play 'I spy with my little eye'. He often found things not even the elves seemed to notice at first and that – so he was told – was something to be proud of.

He rushed down the corridors, crossed the bridges over the many ravines and peered outside into the gardens. Then, in an ordinary looking passage, he found himself drawn to an inconspicuous looking door as if by magic.

He heard somebody whispering behind it. Slowly he pulled on the heavy, silver door handle, only to see a very slim passageway that led down, down, down, in small spirals. The floor was slippery and the walls (not like those beautiful walls in the rest of the Halls!) were made of rough, natural rock. Harry had never seen this place, but it was mysterious. And this was the point when the Potter-Gene kicked in. He wanted so desperately to see what was down there. Well, until…

"Ssstupidsss, elvssss. Locked meessss down heress!"

A voice. A voice with a funny accent. It said 's' in words where no 's' was. And it said nasty things about his friends.

"Hey! The elves aren't stupid! They are very kind!"

"Getss out of meessss waysss, ssstupidsss humanssss."

"I could, if I know where you are! Are you invisible?"

"No! Me'ssss down by yoursss feetsss!"

Harry looked down, and saw – his heart stopped for a moment - a snake. It was about two and a half feet long, with a thin black body that was occasionally striped with the same yellow that coloured its head. Harry jumped away from it.

"You're a snake!"

"Of coursssse! But notsss any snakesss!"

"So… you're a special kind of snake?"

"Of courssse, ssstupid!"

"Uhm… what's so special about you, then?"

The snake looked taken aback. It obviously wasn't used to this kind of questions. Well, thought Harry, maybe it isn't used to talking to humans. He was, after all, not used to talking to snakes either. They seemed to be very proud animals.

"Whatsss so ssspecccial about meesssss? Everythingssss!"

"Uhm. Okay. Could you be more precise? I still don't know your specialness."

It made a hissing noise that could be compared to a human groaning angrily.

"Stupidsss humansss! Me'sss an Azemiops feae, onesss of the mossst dangerousss snakessss outssside theresss!"

"If you say so. I usually shouldn't play with dangerous things, but you haven't tried to attack me yet, so I think I'll stay here for a while. I've never talked to a snake, you know. I didn't know you could talk at all."

"Of courssse weessss cansss talkss! No stupisss humansss ever underssstandsssss!"

"So, every snake can talk, but you have, uhm, kind of your own language?"

"Stupidsss humansss goodsss thinkingsss! But ssstill not explainedsss why itssss speaksss parseltoungesss."

"Parseltounge?"

"Oursss language, stupidsss!"

"Oh. Uhm, I dunno."

"Stupidsss!"

Harry decided to claim that he didn't hear all those insults. The snake obviously had bad experiences with humans. The boy had long forgotten that he should be looking for his dad and his friends.

"By the way, I'm Harry. Do you have a name?"

"Of courssse meesss havesss a name!"

"Could you tell me, please?"

"Whyss didn'tsss stupidsss humansss asssked beforess? Meesss name isss Lugonsss."

"Lugons? So, you're a guy."

"Me'ssss certainlysss no femalesss!"

"Okay, okay. I have no practice in telling a snake's gender."

How could he have known? He hadn't even _seen_ any snakes outside his books. The elves didn't like snakes at all. Well, at least snakes didn't seem to like elves, too, Harry thought.

"Do you live here?"

"No, stupidsss, meesss wasss locked in heresss by sssilly elvessss, ignoringsss meesss!"

"I'm sure it was an accident."

"Yessss, yesss, stupidssss, alwayssss everythingssss accidentsss! Tzzzzz, never!"

"Okay, Okay. No need to get snappy."

"Meessss been downsss heresss for long timessss! Me'ssss hungry! Stupidssss would bessss snappy, too, when haventssss eatenssss long enoughssss!"

"Do you need help?"

"Meessss?"

"No, the other black-yellow striped snake I'm talking to! Of course you."

"Meessss mighty snakessss! Meesss needsss no helpsss!"

"So… if you don't need any help, I'm just gonna leave and you stay down in this passageway. You don't need help to get out of here, after all."

Harry couldn't stand it anymore. He hated it when he got insulted without reason. (Okay, that, and he really needed to practice being sassy. Mithrandir sometimes used sarcasm. And his dad, too, he needed to stand up to them and practice.)

"No!"

"So you need help?"

"Yesss… stupidsss situationsss!"

Well, at least now the snake blamed everything on the situation, not on Harry and the elves.

"Why didn't you say so? Come on."

Together they made their way up the small, dimly lit corridor Harry had walked down, only to discover that the door was shut. Now, that wasn't good at all. Harry tried opening it, but somebody had locked it. Funny, he didn't hear anyone who had closed it. Harry had to use all his self-control in order not to swear (he'd learned a few wonderful swearwords when a few dwarfs from the lonely mountain visited last year). He always got into trouble. Every single time. He should've expected it. He tried harder to open the door. Finally he gave it up and restricted on calling out for help.

After a few minutes yelling that seemed like a whole lifetime, he became frustrated. No matter how loud he yelled for help, the only thing he would get as an answer was an angry hiss from Lugnos. Foul thing.

Desperately he kicked the door with as much force as he could manage, and it caused nothing but a hurting toe. Harry jumped a few times on one foot until the ache lessened and sat down with a defeated sigh (It still had an angry undertone to it.). Then it hit him.

He could do magic.

Okay, maybe it had been accidentally two times and the other times were with Mithrandir and there was that once with the funny stone from the dwarfs that absorbed every bit of magic and made it stronger, but it was magic all the same!

He stood up slowly and faced the door handle. He reached out with his hands and touched the silver lightly, willing himself to memorize all of its features. It was cool on his skin, smooth and if he would carry it in his hands, it would surely be heavy.

As Harry concentrated on the silver, he felt a strange tickling sensation running down his spine and bubbling inside his core, but instinctively he knew he couldn't release it just yet. The elves had taught him to recognise his instincts instead of disregarding them as Men tended to do. So now he knew he had to wait. He imagined further. How an elven smith had created it. The heat of the flames, rushing over his face, the sound of a hammer on semi molten metal. He felt the tickling leave his core and seep into his arms, warming up his fingertips and finally getting out of his body. His concentration didn't lessen a second.

He imagined even further. How the heat would go through the smiths' protective gear, creep under the elf's skin. His fingers warmed noticeably. He imagined the silver glowing red and yellow in the core of the flames, how it would blister and slowly melt. He felt something hot and sticky on his fingers, but his eyes still closed in concentration, he couldn't tell what caused it. Something of the silver would fall into the flames, when the smith wasn't cautious enough. The glow in front of his closed eyelids grew brighter and then darkened abruptly. Harry felt the door giving in and heard Lugnos' approving hiss.

He opened his eyes and gasped. He had melted the whole locking mechanism. His hands were still in the sticky, silver mass. He let out a scream. It hurt! It hurt so much. He hadn't noticed before, but his hands were burned all over. Sweat had formed small drops on Harry's forehead that was now feverish warm. Harry shivered. He felt so exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep, he wanted the pain to stop, he wanted his Dad to hold him and he wanted to read the soothing words in the letter of his parents. At least he had managed to set Lugnos free, Harry thought, before everything went black and unconsciousness took him.

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Lugnos had always avoided those walking on two legs. If you may call them Dwarfs, Elves, Men or Istari, didn't affect him at all. They all smelled weird, made too much noise (he _hated_ when those elves sang. Stupid guys. Everyone could hear it. It made them such an easy target!) And they all pretty much ignored or killed all the snakes that would (usually accidentally) cross their paths. Those… _beings_ referred to all snakes as evil and bad. Lugnos really hated them.

But this one, this small one was different. First, he spoke parseltongue. Second, he had asked for Lugnos' name (Nobody had done that _ever_. Not even fellow serpents!), and third, he had helped him in a hopeless situation. Lugnos was impressed. This wasn't usual two-leg behaviour. And now, Harry lay on the ground, clearly in need for healing, with the terrible smell of burned human flesh in the air. His savour needed to be saved, that much was as clear as Orcs were disgusting.

Lugnos never had to be brave in his life. In his opinion, being brave was just another word for 'foolish', but now, he needed all his foolishness and bravery together. He somehow had to alert other elves of his saviour's condition. He sensed many of the elves running around not far away, so he made his way as quickly as possible in that direction. There! The first elf he ran into wasn't even an elf but a Man. His hair looked rather unkempt and his eyes were grey, full of worry and seemed to suck in every detail of his surroundings. It took the man only a split of a second to spot Lugnos. At first the man did nothing but stare at Lugnos like his latest meal had (a wonderful fat brown mouse, but that was beside the point).

Lugnos mentally rolled his eyes. Did he have to do everything on his own? He showed his highly poisonous teeth and tried to look as aggressive as possible. 'Now, Now,' thought the snake, 'congrats, you finally got the hint', as the man took out his sword. Lugnos quickly dived away under the blade and slithered away, back to Harry. As predicted, the man took after him. Who would, after all, let a poisonous snake freely slither around in some elven palace? The way seemed twice as long now that he had some warrior, desperate to slice him in two, chasing after him, but Lugnos eventually made it to the last corner before his finish line.

He heard the Man behind him sniffing and choking. Well, it seemed that humans didn't like the smell of burning flesh either. Lugnos made the sort of hissing that would be a relieved sigh in a human mouth.

As they both finally arrived in the corridor, Lugnos happily heard a yell behind him. He had managed it! He had saved his saviour. Now, there was no need to stay. His life-debt was paid. While the human rushed towards Harry, Lugnos silently slithered away, towards the next window. He didn't once look back.

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Harry groaned. His hands were hurting. Not as bad as it had been, as he remembered, but it was still bad. At least, he wasn't exhausted anymore. Rather, he felt like he would be able to run through Mirkwood without a break. But before he could do that, he had to open his eyes. Much too bright light was the first thing he saw, and he quickly closed his eyelids. He groaned again. His head hurt now. Slowly, as if somebody would put away some sort of sound-stopper from his ears, he heard voices, talking in hushed tones.

"… _think he wakes up?"_

" _Definitely. Though I cannot predict if there may be any long lasting effects."_

" _You think there will be some, father? What kind of effects?"_

" _He may have a trauma from this whole experience. When he decides to fear his magic for what it has done, it is possible he decides to never use it again. But if he bottles it up and never releases it, there are going to be magical outbursts, surely dangerous for us and for him. Magic is like a wild animal in any means, no matter how different his magic is compared to Mithrandir's or our own. If you put a wild animal into a cage, it will become aggressive and constantly try to get itself freed."_

" _Now, Now, let's not think of the worst worst-case scenario we can possibly think of."_

" _Yes. Harry is a very brave young man. The more years I spend with him, the more character he develops, the more bravery and selflessness I can see."_

" _You are lucky to have such an extraordinary foster son, Legolas."_

" _I'm sure you were and still are considered the same way, Estel."_

Harry recognised two of them. His dad and his granddad (he didn't like it to call him King Thranduil, though all of the other elves had tried to make him. The King would always laugh at those attempts). He couldn't figure out, who the third one was. He didn't sound any elfish. Besides, Harry could sense four people in the room and wondered why Mithrandir didn't speak. He could clearly feel the power, the tingling in the air that always accompanied the Istar.

If he could only _look_! He'd be willing to open his eyes, but the light had caused him a headache once, he didn't look forward to another time. He decided to simply ask for help. That was always good. And as Mithrandir would have the fastest methods to make everything darker, Harry would address him. He would also get to see some of his magic tricks, and he really loved that.

" _Please, Mithrandir, could you dim the light? I can't open my eyes."_

Harry heard him chuckle, two of the others (The unknown and his Dad) sigh in relief and he could almost hear his Granddad frown. Maybe because he wasn't supposed to be in the dark. Finally the light shining through his eyelids lessened. With a relieved sigh, he opened his eyes carefully. He didn't want another headache, after all.

" _Uhm … Hello Everyone."_

A second later, he found himself involved in a gentle but firm hug by his Dad. He leaned into the contact and didn't let go for a long time. When they finally released each other, he got a proper look on them all. His Dad looked really worn out, as if he hadn't slept but been upset a too long time. Gandalf looked, as always, rather unpredictable, but somehow a little amused, while his Granddad frowned for no obvious reason at all. The stranger looked nothing but relieved and friendly.

" _May I have some water? My mouth is all dry."_

" _Of course, little one, I've got some here."_

Harry took the glass of water his Granddad offered him and shifted a little uncomfortably. All four of them were staring at him. He hated being stared at. He pretended not to notice and looked around. Stunned, he recognised the infirmary.

" _Why am I not in my room, I'm not supposed to be …"_

Then, a flood of memories overran his brain. The silver door handle, the pain in his hands, the exhaustion … Somebody must've found him.

" _Oh… How long have I been here?"_

" _You have rested here for eight Days now."_

" _More than a week?!"_

" _Yes, little one, but do not worry, your body is healed now."_

Slowly, realization kicked in. Harry hadn't found them on his birthday! They must've been extremely worried about him! He hated worrying.

" _I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do whatever I did."_

" _Don't be. But if I were in your position, I would thank Estel, as he was the one to find you. He would have been a birthday surprise. We figured that since you never talked to anyone besides elves and Istari, you would like to talk to somebody … human."_

" _Uhm, Thanks, Estel."_

The Man smiled softly.

" _You're quite welcome. But I don't think I would have found you, if it wasn't for that snake. It attacked me and when I tried to catch it, I ran right into you."_

Harry looked up excitedly. A snake … that could only mean …

" _You've met Lugnos?"_

" _Lugnos?"_

" _Was the snake huge and black with a yellow head and some yellow stripes?"_

" _How'd you know?"_

" _That was Lugnos, I heard him talk behind a door and wanted to look who was there. Then I discovered some corridor that didn't look like the rest of the castle. Lugnos was on the floor and said he couldn't get out. I said I would help him, but then the door was locked and I yelled but no one heard. Then I tried magic, and it worked! I think, Lugnos attracted your attention on purpose."_

" _Did you just say the snake talked to you?"_

" _Yeah, well, it had a rather inappropriate sort of language though."_

The adults shared a look. Harry frowned. It was the we-need-to-have-a-serious-discussion-about-something-Look. What could have upset them? He looked up.

" _Don't worry, I won't copy Lugnos' way of talking. I don't like it when somebody insults my family."_

The grown-ups smiled softly at him.

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To say that Legolas was upset was a bit of an understatement. Judging by the look that Thranduil and Mithrandir had shared, they didn't know what to think either. After all, talking to snakes was something that was deeply connected to dark magic. Well, as far as magic could be dark. It was more connected to evil people who could do magic, like the witch-king, for one. It was said, that he could speak in snake tongues.

He couldn't think of what that would mean to for his Harry. If he knew one person, that would certainly never ever go dark, it was Harry (and maybe Estel, but that was beside the point here). The problem was that although _he_ knew that, others wouldn't. People would fear him and fear led to prejudice. He nearly groaned. No, he certainly didn't want Harry to be met with hate and wariness.

At the moment, Harry didn't seem aware of what he had just revealed. Well, he couldn't have known. There were (usually) no serpents in the elves' palace. Harry looked up, his vibrant green eyes suddenly full of this innocent excitement only children could feel.

" _Hey! I've had birthday, before I passed out! Can I open my presents? Please, Dad, pleeeeeaaaaase!"_

His son looked up at him with wide puppy-eyes. Legolas laughed. He always got that look when Harry wanted something very much and yet had no intention of doing anything for it. He would let him, as birthday presents were really nothing you had to work for.

" _Of course, little one. After all, you only turn seven once."_

Harry nodded with all the solemnity a seven-year old boy sitting on his bed in pyjamas could have.

" _Yes. Because, next year, I will turn eight. Can you believe that? Dad, I wish I was already eight. I would be so much bigger and grown up."_

Legolas chuckled lightly and retrieved his son's still wrapped presents from a corner of the room, where they had been lying ever since he was moved into the infirmary. Harry wasn't allowed to stand up just yet. He had one big presents and a few smaller ones. Legolas loved to see the enthusiastic look on Harry's face and the joy in his eyes as he discovered a new pair of boots, a Ball (his last one fell into the river), and lovely wooden figures of a doe and a stag which was apparently his favourite.

Then Harry's eyes fell on the heaviest, largest package. He picked it up and ripped it open. Legolas watched as Harry's eyes grew wide.

" _Dad, if this is what I think it might be, you're the best Dad in Middle-earth and Aman together!"_

Legolas smile grew wider as he heard Harry squeal in delight. Yep. He was the best Dad in Arda. But he wasn't going to show Harry his satisfaction about that. He had to act like a serious, responsible adult (Well, he tried to.). His foster son looked up with eyes as wide as silver-coins.

" _Does that mean that I'm finally going to be trained?"_

He held up the small training-sword, maybe imagining how it would be to fight with it.

" _Yes, Harry, that's another reason why Estel is here. He shall be your trainer. Handle it with responsibility and use it only when an adult is around. You're a big boy now, but big boys need to be cautious."_

Harry looked thrilled. He began firing off questions at Estel. Legolas nearly banged his forehead against the table, when Harry kept asking 'when are we going to kill Orcs?' But he had to be a responsible adult, and elves didn't do such things either. Poor Legolas. Harry had the ability to find, pick and hide the books that weren't particularly for little children. 'Battles of History', 'how to slay the darkest beasts' and 'famous orc-attacks in the second age' may be useful for research, but they were not something you could call enjoyable.

But Harry had this special feature. The I-always-get-into-trouble-without-searching-for-it-trait. Just like on his birthday, just a week ago.

A quiet yawn snapped him out of his thoughts. Harry looked tired again.

" _Rest now, little one, or do you wish to be sleepy for your first lesson?"_

" _But Grandpa, I'm not tire-"_

He was interrupted by another yawn. Harry looked angry with himself after that.

" _If you say so. Good night."_

" _Sweet dreams, little one."_

Legolas got up and hugged his son, felt the light kiss on his cheek and smiled. The other three men ruffled his messy black hair and said their good nights. They were about to get out of the room, when a shy whisper came from behind.

" _Will you still read me a story? Even if I'm a big boy now?"_

" _Of course, Harry. Do you want me to read?"_

" _Could you ask Maechenebil, please? I haven't seen her in ages."_

" _Sure, Harry, I'll make sure to ask her."_

Legolas smiled one last time at his foster son, before he closed the door and turned to face the worried faces of his dad, Mithrandir and Estel.

A few minutes later, Legolas found himself in his Father's study again. Estel was with them. He would be Harry's sword trainer, so he had a right to know about any unpleasantness that may come up. They all had agreed that a man should teach a man how to fight. It had been like that with Estel, and so it should be with Harry. Later on, when he became proficient, perhaps at eighteen or nineteen, he would be taught the elven ways of sword-fighting.

But that wasn't the point now. Mithrandir and Thranduil looked extremely concerned. Well, he couldn't blame them. He probably had the same look on his face.

"…sooo. He talks snake-language."

"Yes."

"That will not make him evil, will it?"

"I do not think so."

"Me neither. Harry has a strong will, just as I said."

"How does this… ability come to him? Does one of you have a theory?"

"It may come from his scar. That thing is tainted with evil and it may come from there."

"I still wonder how he got it."

"Or what it is. We should probably do some research about magic."

"That shall be a task for you, Mithrandir."

"If you say so, Strider."

"I doubt you shall find something in this world about it. It seems most likely to be something he got where he came from."

Legolas sighed. Now, this might take a while. Thankfully he had told Maechenebil about Harry's wish before they had come here. At least Harry could get some rest.

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After the story was told (it had been about a funny man called Iarwain Ben-adar or Tom Bombadil amongst the men) and Maechenebil had said good night, Harry jumped out of his bed. In a quick movement, he pulled his box from under his bed. The letter from his parents lay on top, neatly folded inside the envelope.

His eyes found the familiar, curvy and orderly writing of his mother and his father's edgy scribble.

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 ** _My dear Harry,_**

 ** _I don't know what is worse: that you read these words now, or that I have to write such a letter._**

 ** _I'm sure you know why this is in need. If you ever get to read this, we will be dead and you most likely never got the chance to get to know us._**

 ** _I hope you had (or still have) a happy, carefree childhood. We went into hiding on Professor Dumbledore's advice, so we still have hope._**

 **Yes, hope is the only light we have in these dark times. Hope and friends.**

 **At the moment, the only one who can reveal the location of our house is Peter, a good friend of mine.** **We wanted to take Sirius, your Godfather, at first, but he said it would be too obvious.**

 **I am ashamed by this, but both of us think, that our other friend, Remus, is the one who gives information to the enemy.** **I hope this isn't the case, and I feel truly ashamed at the idea of mistrusting my friends, but dark times lead to careful decisions.**

 ** _Just to mention it: I don't think it is Remus. Just because he spies for our side doesn't mean he also spies for the other side!_**

 **I also doubt that it is him, but somebody is out there, trading information.**

 ** _Now, let's stop talking about that. We want you to know that we love you from the very depth of our hearts._**

 ** _I would give my life every time in order to save yours. All I want is your safety and happiness._**

 ** _We're looking everywhere for a possibility to destroy Voldemort._**

 ** _In the Departments of Mysteries, where I was working as an Unspeakable before I got pregnant, there are a few interesting books._**

 ** _Your father and I have figured out that Voldemort might have created Horcruxes to stay immortal. He had been making comments about the need of more than the usual methods for humans, to kill him._**

 ** _We're still trying to find out what he could have used. Your father and I haven't told anybody of it, not even Professor Dumbledore._**

 **I hope you will never need this information, but we didn't want it to be lost forever in case we died.**

 **Now, back to the funny, emotional stuff, I can't stand all this talking about foul methods of cheating death.**

 **I want you to play Quidditch and pranks, date as many girls as possible, and finally end up with a fiery tempered redhead. It worked out fine for me!**

 ** _Harry James Potter, if you do that, I'll kick your ass as soon as we meet again. You wouldn't dare scare off your future wife by playing as a Casanova._**

 ** _But we'd like you to know that no matter what house you'll be sorted in, when you're at Hogwarts and what you do, we will always be proud of you._**

 **Just try not to get into Slytherin, or to be too friendly with them.**

 ** _James!_**

 **Ouch! Tell your Mother not to hit me on the head. But anyway, I was just joking.**

 **We'll love you and whoever you'll make friends with. I am best friends with a** ** _Black_** **, after all, so I can't let prejudice rule my thoughts.**

 ** _Yes, just as James said. Also make sure to go your own way, don't let others get you down, but be able to handle constructive criticism._** **_Don't be an arrogant git like your father was in his first six years of school._**

 **Hey!**

 ** _Harry, another note: do not tickle your wife. Never._**

 **Do it Harry, it's fun!**

 ** _Listen to your mother and don't. So, we are trying to tell you to live life your way. You are unique, so don't let the world change you and most importantly not your good characteristics._**

 **We love you endlessly much, I hope you'll never read this,**

 ** _Lily & _****James Potter**

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Harry smiled as he kissed each signature softly and put the letter, with the envelope, back into the box under his bed. Then he lay down on his bed with a smile. He fell asleep instantly.

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 **Hello, it's me again.**

 **I hope you liked it and my English wasn't unbearable. Next chapter, I may have a Beta-Reader (depends on if somebody actually would write back) and it will be better.**

 **I apologise for all mistakes I made, you are invited to tell me every single one in the comments, as long as you use an appropriate language.**

 **I also wanted to say a huge**

 **THANK YOU!**

 **It's only the first Chapter and already 6 Reviews, 53 Followers and 22 Favourites, this is more than I ever had :) I'm still in awe about more than 850 Views. I hope I will be able to constantly achieve such response with my Story :)**

 **SakuraDragomir:**

Thanks for your Comment :) I hope you'll like the process the story will make

 **Laura:**

Thanks for your Review :) I was thinking, that he is THE Dumbledore. He's gifted at Legilimency and a toddler can't really protect his mind. And when experiences are still in the short-term memory, they're literally swirling around on the surface. I like to imagine that Dumbledore was there with Hagrid at Godric's Hollow and he then went to organize a few things and write the letter while Hagrid was left to bring Harry safely to Little Whinging. It would've been a good opportunity for Dumbledore to see, what happened.

 **silentmayhem:**

Thanks for your encouragement. Friday every three weeks will be uploaded :)

 **Epeefencer:**

Thanks for your Review :) Also thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.

 **Guest:**

Friday every three weeks :)

 **Katzztar:**

Thanks for your Review :) I'm sorry if I disappoint you ow, but there won't be Dumbledore-bashing in this story. Bu don't worry, he won't have a very important role in it either. I've explained how Dumbledore gained this knowledge (or how I imagine it would have been) in the answer for Laura.

 **Now, Thanks for all your encouragement, I will see you soon, on Friday, December the 5th, when I upload the next chapter. I hope to receive some reviews guys, do not disappoint me. ;)**

 **See you next Chapter.**


	3. Esgaroth - 2

**Hello :)**

 **Again: No Beta-** **reader, I'm still waiting for an answer. Hope you enjoy it anyway :)**

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Harry loved his life. He was sitting at the forest river in his travel-coat, enjoying Today's break from the sword lessons. His tutor, Estel wasn't always here, but when he was, the training was intense. Only yesterday, he had nursed a scratch on his cheek and a bruise on his left ankle. Not to be mistaken, he loved the sword lessons and he had a fair and competent teacher, but it was also very exhausting. He would not want to give this up for any gold the world could give him.

He heard once again the familiar hissing noise of Lugnos' impolite language, but didn't greet the snake. He came slithering around from time to time. He never stopped to talk to Harry directly, though. His family – the elves – had been very concerned about his ability to speak parseltongue at first. It wasn't very common to speak this Language and recently there have only been Beings with great evil in their hearts to be able to do so. He could understand their concern. It was only natural to rely on experience. But Mithrandir went to some Libraries and looked up the topic in a really old book. Harry had no idea, why it had taken him one and a half year to find a single book. Maybe not all the libraries were as orderly as the one in woodland realm. He knew the exact places of every single book here. That was ever since he could remember and he liked that. His dad never figured out, how he found the books he wasn't supposed to find. Anyway, Mithrandir had found out that Parseltongue did not automatically bring evilness with it. At the Beginning of the first age, it had even been a highly appreciated gift. Sauron, the witch king and a few others had apparently ruined its reputation. Harry was now ten years old (seriously, he was almost grown up! Only two foot and he would be as tall as his Dad!) and he loved his life. The summer was beautiful, the winters were nice too, spring was always refreshing and autumn was always stunningly magnificent. But Harry knew something was missing. He knew, whenever he performed magic - which was often, as it was one of his favourite things to do - he felt there was supposed to be something more. As if using arrows without the tips, or a rod in a sword fight. He constantly tried to find something that would fill that gap, but it never worked. Only the stone from the dwarfs with the power to increase every magical Energy managed to relieve this feeling a little. But Harry didn't want to feel incomplete. He was doing research whenever possible. He didn't dare to ask somebody. It would worry everyone. He hated it when people worried about him. He always felt guilty at that.

But today, he would worry no one. Estel would be here for at least two weeks and he would accompany his Dad and him to Esgaroth. Harry was excited. Maybe more excited than ever in his life. This was the first time when he would ever see something different than the forest and the palace. He would not mess this up. He could see Estel and his Dad walking towards him and he prepared himself for another lecture.

" _Harry!"_

" _Can we go now?"_

At his Dad's raised eyebrow, he hastily added _"Please?"_

He didn't want to mess it up even before they headed off. He'd been stuck in Mirkwood forest for too long and knew every passageway in the palace by heart. Even the ones he wasn't supposed to know.

" _Soon. I just want you to remember a few things."_

" _You have my full attention."_

They had gone through this conversation at least ten times the last three days. He knew every single word his father would say.

" _Good. Always stay in sight. It can be a right chaos in the village. Try not to get lost, yes?"_

Harry somehow couldn't help but expect to get lost.

" _Of course Dad."_

" _Try not to get yourself abducted or captured of any sort."_

Why did he suddenly think, that it was very likely to be kidnapped?

" _Sure Dad."_

" _Try not to steal anything or get yourself accused for stealing things."_

Why did he have the distinct feeling that just this would happen today?

" _I will be careful, Dad"_

" _Try not to go talk to strangers, especially not armed strangers and dwarfs."_

Harry already saw himself bumping into foreign, armed dwarfs.

" _Never Dad."_

" _Try not to go anywhere where you can sense goblins. Even if the traces are many years old."_

He already had a bad Feeling about this.

" _I wouldn't dare."_

" _Just try not to get into any kind of Trouble, Yes?"_

Harry barely managed to hold back a snort. As if _that_ would ever happen.

" _Certainly, Dad."_

He hadn't promised anything. Only to try. If anything happened, he could say he _tried_. Trying was always a good think. Particularly if you were Harry Potter and trouble would always follow you around like a shadow or a small puppy. Harry had always liked puppies. Much more than mice or rats. Or shadows. He also liked cats. Especially tabby cats. Why, he didn't know. He also didn't know, why he'd always wanted a furry, black Dog. But he'd never asked anyone for a pet. It was nothing essential but would rather consume his time. At the other hand, it would be nice to have company besides the elves. He knew, they were family, but the all were such adults. Maybe not as serious as the human adults he'd met, but still adults. It could be a little boring with everyone around you being many centuries older than you.

His Dad held out a hand and helped Harry sitting up. The next Harry knew, was that they were walking through the forest. He'd thought, that with all the training he'd received he would easily be able to walk as fast as the two adults, but they were walking in such a pace that he had a hard time keeping up. Estel was leading the small group of three people while Harry marched on behind him with his Dad on his heels. After maybe a - what seemed like an eternity –half an hour, Harry was finally able to hear water. They had reached the docks. Why they had to go to the farthest mooring was a mystery to Harry – Estel probably wanted to make up for the missed days of training.

Relieved to have a bit of a break he sat down on the boat. The two adults would handle everything here.

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The next few hours were rather boring and Harry found himself longing for a good walk. They didn't bother stopping for lunch or dinner. They had brought some bread and cheese and ate that while navigating the boat down the river.

It was already getting dark as their boat finally reached the long lake. The lights of Esgaroth shone bright and reflected on the water. It was a truly magnificent sight, even for someone, who had grown up with elves. The lights of the city mixed with the light of the first visible stars.

" _Look Dad, Estel the water! It looks as if we were sailing in the sky!"_

Amazed, Harry let a Hand glide through the water, as if to catch the small light dots. A Hand on his shoulder made him look up. Estel had a small smile on his face and spoke in common speech (Harry feared to forget everything when he wouldn't use the language regularly).

"Try not to get too near to the water. You aren't the most… well, capable swimmer, remember?"

Harry flushed a bit. There had been a few attempts to teach him how to swim and they all failed spectacularly. Harry didn't like the water. Well he didn't have anything against it, he just didn't like _himself_ being _inside_ the water. Gandalf had said that this got something to do with the fact that his magical core was of the Element Fire and Air. Both weren't compatible with water.

"Yes Estel, I will be careful."

"Good. We don't want a soaked Harry walk around in the City, do we?"

"Don't worry. I'm careful. Really!"

Estel nodded, flashing him another smile.

"Are you excited?"

"Oh, Yes! I want to see **everything**! Really, I have read so much about Esgarot. Finally seeing it in reality is so exciting! But after all this time in Mirkwood, the City is not the only thing I want to see. I want to climb the lonely mountain, I want to see Mellyrn, Imlardis, the horses of Rohan, the eagles, visit isengards library and talk to Onodrim – err, Ents."

A thought crossed his mind and he added quickly:

"And I want to see a hobbit. I heard they were good at hiding themselves."

"Hmm, Little one. You would have to travel long distances in order to see any of these."

"I know and I don't care. I rather appreciate that fact. I want to see something – no, everything that isn't like Mirkwood. I know it is home and I will always return there but I want to see the world."

"I'm sure you can do that. But not too soon. You're only ten years old. You have a lifetime full of adventures in front of you. For now, Mirkwood forest, your training and studies are enough adventures."

Harry made a face at that. Patience was certainly nothing he was good at.

"But-"

"Nothing 'but'. If you'd meet orcs on your way, you surely would want to be able to beat them, wouldn't you?"

"Yes! Of course."

"I see. If you met a single orc today, you would get away with your life. You would still need a bit of luck though. Orcs still possess greater strength than you. But tell me, what is the first thing you learnt in your lessons about orc?"

Harry looked deflated.

"If you meet one lonely orc, make sure to look back and watch the other nine that are hiding behind."

"Quite right, Harry. Orcs usually hang together in groups of…?"

"Ten."

"Except for…?"

"The times that a greater force calls for them to create an army and inside their city."

"Very well Harry. Trust me, many of the most capable warriors would find it draining to fight ten orcs at once. You wouldn't stand a chance right now. I'm sorry."

Harry sighed and pushed the images of himself drowning in a flood of orcs aside.

"It's okay. I know that I need much more training to fight orcs. It's not as if nobody ever told me that. If I remember correctly, I asked about thirty times when we would go slay orcs on my seventh birthday. But I'm not that small anymore. I'm nearly as tall as dad!"

Estel raised a single eyebrow. Harry continued a little grumpy, but with a smile.

"Okay, I get it. I still need about two foot to be as tall as him."

"Right Indeed, little one. Before we enter the village: put on your hood now. We don't want anyone see your Pointy ears now, do we?"

Harry smiled and pulled the hood over his head. He could remember the day he got elven ears as clearly as if it had been only yesterday.

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*Flashback*

 _"Harry? Harry, where are you?"_

His Dad's voice carried through the corridor he had hidden himself inside. But Harry had no intention of revealing his position. He was angry. At the world and at himself.

Why did he have to be so different? He knew that the elves weren't his blood family. He had figured out that long before he'd even been given his parents' letter. The elves were nevertheless his family in every other way. But that didn't make differences between them less.

Harry tried to be like them. Really. He wanted to fit in. But it seemed that the harder he tried, the more differences became clear. The elves were everything he was not. Their movements always graceful, their way of talking constantly gallant, their care permanently gentle and their way of acting continuously selfless.

Harry himself was – as far as he knew – nothing of these. He would never be able to walk and move the way the elves could. As if they were walking on clouds, or as if they were floating one or two inch over the ground. Harry was often a bit clumsy. Something his family never ever, ever was.

Harry knew he should be talking jut as the elves were – they did after all teach him how to speak – but he had heard too many other kinds of talking. After the dwarfs' rude language, the rash way those warriors from Rohan talked and also Lugnos' impolite tongue it was nearly impossible for Harry to keep his way of talking fine and polite. If it hadnt been for the elves, Harry would have never seen all these strangers, but it was hard to keep a Potter, who knows everything about a place, from eavesdropping.

Everything that was given to the care of the elves, seemed to develop the best way possible. The last time Harry had tried to grow a plant, it died after only a single week. He definitely had no talent with plants. Mithrandir had told him, that it was connected to the fact that his magical core wasn't connected to the element earth. Harry had no idea what that meant. In the library were no books about connections between elements and magical cores.

And last but not least, he couldn't help but notice, that he was being selfish from time to time. For example at meals. He'd never get the idea of letting another person eat the last currant bread, when he could eat it himself.

Now, as he lay here in the dark corner, hidden from his dad's gaze, all this depressing thoughts came crashing down on him. He held back a sob as it would surely reveal his position.

By the Valar, he wished so much that he would at least be a little bit like his family. He would give everything to be like them. He felt the warm tickling sensation of his magic running up and down his spine. Through closed eyes, he could see a small glow that heated his ears little. Not so much that it made him uncomfortable but enough to warm him up.

 _"Here you are, Harry."_

Had the light been sufficient to show his dad where he had been hiding? Apparently. Harry heard a small gasp, still not opening his eyes. If he did, the tears he'd been holding back would fall for sure.

 _"Harry, what have you- how did you manage to… wow Harry, now you're not only like us, you also look like us."_

 _"What?"_

Harry's eyes shot open.

 _"Don't you feel it? Somehow you managed to change your appearance."_

 _"Really? Where?"_

His Dad reached out and gently touched his ear. Harrys hand followed. But his ear felt different. Somehow… pointed. His jaw dropped open and with his other hand he touched his Dad's ear. The felt so similar. Somehow Harry's magic had managed to get him Elven-Ears. Harry already loved them.

Suddenly a frown appeared on his Dad's forehead.

 _"Harry?"_

 _"Yes, Dad?"_

 _"Whenever someone visits or we go outside, you have to hide these."_

 _"But why? I want to be like you and the others, Dad. Why can't I?"_

His Dad laid his hands on Harry's shoulders. And looked him straight and earnestly in the eye.

 _"Harry. You will always be one of us. No matter what you look like or what you do. We're Family and Family stands together, remember? And you are a lot like us. You remind me very much of Elven children. You are a lot like us. Just because you are not exactly like me or someone else does not meant that you are not like any of us. You have your own wonderful qualities. Some of your abilities are not as good as elven abilities, yes, but some of your abilities are much better than any of the elves'."_

 _"Thanks Dad. But… I want to keep the ears. I don't even know how to remove them."_

 _"I never said you shall remove them. Just hide them around strangers. Many evil people would be delighted to abduct an elven child. And with these ears you look just like one. You'd be in great danger if some Beings became aware of you."_

 _"Oh."_

Harry stayed quiet for a while keeping is eyes on the floor. He felt his Dad's gaze on him. Then his head shot up again, looking up with huge vibrant green eyes.

 _"Those beings are not orcs, are they?"_

Legolas remained silent for a few seconds.

 _"No. Sadly not."_

 _"Is it true what Mithrandir said last week? That this corrupt, tainted Maia is rising again? That a nameless evil is searching for the one Ring?"_

His Dad shook his head faintly.

 _"I don't want to know how you know about the ring, but I taught you better than to eavesdrop. "_

 _"Is it true?"_

A heavy sigh left his father's mouth.

 _"Yes, it's true. But Harry, you are too young to be concerned about something like this."_

Harry scowled.

 _"It surely does concern me! If the shadow needs a few years to gain power, then I will be an adult when it rises. It will be men of my age to fight the upcoming battles! I will be in the middle of this war. I already know that, it doesn't matter if I am only nine. I know why I am trained to fight. I know you try to keep me out of this to give me a childhood. But I also know, that I can't hide from this. I know that what happened before, can happen again every day. I know everything about history. I've read all the books I could find about the topic in the library. It's no use keeping information from me. I will be involved anyway."_

His Dad's eyes looked moist as Harry was pulled into a firm hug. His Dad didn't let go for a long time. Finally he spoke.

 _"I know, Harry. I know I cannot keep this from you. But I also know, that you are a child at the moment. You deserve to worry about things like the dessert next dinner or what game to play next. I wish so much you would have been brought here in a more peaceful time. But please Harry, leave this topic for another few years. I promise, once you are sixteen, I will share everything we have with you. I promise it."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Of course. Have I ever lied to you?"_

Harry shook his head quietly and flashed his dad a small, honest smile.

 _"Thank you."_

 _"You're quite welcome. Now, shall we go and get a few hoods sewed to your robes?"_

*Flashback end*

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Harry's Thoughts were interrupted as the boat bumped gently against a landing stage. Harry had been so lost in thought, he hadn't even noticed that they had entered the village, until now. He looked around and tried to suck in every detail. The houses were mostly made of wood, very few were made of stone. Many buildings were ornamented on some places. In every of these decorations could be seen a dragon. Harry knew the history that surrounded this town and was well aware of its meaning. The planks they were walking on seemed stable enough to hold them and looked used. Harry could see traces of the heavy shoes Dwarfs wore, a few traces of elves that surely had been trading things down here and there were also rather smelly witnesses of horses, dogs, cats, goats and all other kinds of animals, but the most popular traces were of men, women and children.

Harry looked up in the sky. The stars seemed a little bit darker than in the forest and on the lake. The whole Town seemed deserted. This combined with the darkness made the atmosphere a little bit spooky. Unconsciously, he pulled the hood further down on his face. He took a deep breath to calm himself. 'It's not the darkness itself we fear, it's the unfamiliarity about it.' He thought, 'No need to be scared.'

A foreign voice made him jump.

"What is it that you desire, strangers?"

He hadn't even been aware of the guards. Estel would've been disappointed. He hadn't paid attention. In another situation this could have cost him his life. Well, now he had the tip of a sword pointed at him, so his life was also a little bit endangered.

"We come in peace and in search for a place to rest for the night."

Estel had spoken. His Dad's common speech wasn't that advanced.

"Any Weapons?"

"I carry a sword and two daggers." -Estel again.

"I carry a bow, ten arrows and two short swords."

Wow, his Dad had managed to hide the sindarin accent quite well. One of the four guards wrote everything down. Harry wondered briefly if he had to tell them about his daggers.

"Reveal."

Every arm was shown to the guards. Two of them scanned his Dad and Estel for any more weapons but none were found. Harry was unsure whether to feel relieved or offended about the lack of attention.

Harry watched as the writer-guard filled some kind of form that recorded every detail about the arrows, swords and the bow. From its looks to the size and possible damage. Harry stifled a yawn with his sleeve. The moon already stood high. He was really tired.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the guards approved of them (A fair sum of money had also changed hands) and they were allowed to get their weapons and head into the village. Each of them a written permission in their pocket that they should always, under every condition carry with them.

"Were are we going?"

"We shall rest in the 'the golden Dragon'. An inn, near the middle of the town."

Harry smiled. Everything seemed to be connected to history in this town. He loved it. Now that they were walking, the atmosphere changed from spooky to… something different. It was hard to describe. On the one hand everything that had come after the Death of Smaug was new and exciting. The foundation on the other hand, together with everything that had already been in Smaug's time, looked morbid. Harry found it unusual but also very fascinating. He couldn't wait to see it in daylight. Would there be many people? How Many? More than in Mirkwood forest? Less? Harry discovered once more, that patience was not his forte.

"Harry!"

His Head shot around only to see a hand reaching out for him. Estel grabbed his shoulder.

"What?"

"Look were you are going!"

Harry's eyes found the floor – only to see that he would have fallen into the lake if it hadn't been for Estel. The Town seemed to be built on the lake. Everywhere was water. Under the planks that were used as path, next to the Path and between the houses. Harry looked up.

"Thanks Estel."

"No harm done. Just try to pay a little more attention. I know you are tired, but we are almost there."

Harry nodded and tried not to let his thoughts wander. In the darkness everything seemed to look the same. He tried to remember the way, but he lost count after the third bridge that looked the same. After what seemed like an eternity, His Dad's voice broke the silence.

 _"Here we are! 'The golden Dragon'."_

 _"Doesn't look anything like the name."_

 _"Right. But well, it's the inside that counts, isn't it?"_

 _"I hope so."_

The building was relatively large, but it looked shabby and old. Not a good old but a bad old. The Wood was humid and parts seemed rotten. The windows were dark except for three little ones next to the entrance. Harry gulped and opened the door. Instantly, a man with a friendly smile that showed his yellow-brownish teeth, chubby cheeks and small eyes with a friendly twinkle in it, appeared.

"Hello, Strangers. Do you want a bed for the night? You're lucky, I just wanted to go to bed myself. A few minutes later and the door would have been closed. Now, were are your authorizations?"

"Here. This is the child's, this is mine and this is the Elf's."

Aragorn handed all three formulas over and watched the Innkeeper as he wrote their names, race and nearly everything on the paper into a huge book.

"Everything seems to be in order. You have Room 23 and 26. I wish you a good night's sleep."

"Thanks. Rest well yourself. "

Harry didn't really remember much after that. He was so tired. He vaguely remembered stairs, a wooden door and a bed. He was asleep, even before his head touched the Pillows.

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Harry woke up early the next day. He wondered briefly, why he could not hear the birds singing and the rustling of the leaves. Then he remembered. He was in the lake town. He was not in the forest. He jumped out of the bed and hastily opened the window. Noise was the first thing he heard. Sadly, the window showed only as inner courtyard. A very small one.

 _"Dad, come on, look, the sun is up in the sky, come, up! Pleaaase, I want to go out!"_

Harry turned around again and decided.

 _"Urgh… Harry…?"_

Yep. Jumping on the bed had been a very good choice. His Dad was finally awake. From the position of the sun he could see, that they had only about 12 and a half hours until the sun would disappear behind the horizon again. They had to hurry! Seeing his Dad, the usually graceful Elf with unkempt hair and eyes still half closed was a really funny sight. Harry tried to hide his amusement.

Half an hour later, Harry walked at his dad's side next to Estel down the stairs inside the inn. They all ate breakfast together in Estel's room with the rest of yesterdays' dinner and lunch. Now they would finally go outside. Harry was even more excited and fidgety than yesterday. He wanted to see all the people, all the market stalls and everything else that could possibly be there.

 _"Come **on**! You are so **slow**! Walk **faster**."_

His Dad sent him a warning look.

 _"Err, please hurry up."_

 _"Just wait a minute, Harry. We need to pay for the night. A good opportunity to practice patience."_

Harry groaned and slumped down on the floor. He wished, he hadn't promised to always stay in sight. He just wanted his new adventure to start. Mirkwood forest held no more adventures. He'd had every possible adventure you could have there without going near the spiders. He knew the forest by heart, every single passageway was familiar to him. He had even explored the catacombs, where the river flowed under the palace. He wanted a new adventure.

 _"Here we are. That wasn't bad, was it?"_

Harry mumbled something inaudible and stood up again.

 _"Can we pleeeease go now?"_

 _"Yes. We shall go now."_

A triumphant smile spread across Harry's lips and he grabbed his Dad's hand in an attempt to drag him to the door.

 _"Now, now, Harry. What is it with this impatience?"_

 _"I just want to see something new."_

With a smile, his Dad opened the door. Instantly a loud noise reached Harrys ears. The air smelled somehow soiled. He decided not to let this affect his latest adventure. As soon as they were out in the street, the small group was surrounded by people.

So many people. Harry had never seen so many people in such a small room. People bumped into Harry from all directions. The loud noise made his ears hurt. Harry felt somehow very small. There were so many people. It was somehow difficult to breath with this polluted air. So many people. People. So many. Too much. Too much. Too much. Harry couldn't think! There were just too many people. All his brain managed was 'Get out of here'. Get out. Out, out, out, was all he could think.

So he ducked away from the crowd and ran. He bumped into people left and right. He wasn't even aware that some of them shouted insults at him. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He closed his eyes and ran on, purely led by his instincts. One of the merchants let down a basket of fruit right before him. He jumped over it but didn't quite manage the full distance. The basket fell and the fruit spread over the floor. Distantly he could hear someone yell 'Thief!' and felt hands trying to grab him, his hood was pushed down, but he was faster than the men.

After a while, the noise became less and less. He only stopped, as he felt earth under his shoes. His eyes opened and harry gasped. He was surrounded by small hills. The village was nowhere in sight. If he would have climbed one of the hills, he would have easily seen the Esgaroth, but his brain was still too caught up in the recent events.

'So many people, so much noise, such bad air'. These thoughts were rapidly swirling around in his head. He didn't even realize were he ran. His feet just carried him away from this horrid place. He ran and ran and ran. Unaware of his surroundings. Unaware of the danger he walked right into.

He was torn from his thoughts by a harsh, disgusting sound. His eyes searched his surroundings. Nothing. He turned around again to walk on, but there was somebody standing in his way. Brown, Muddy skin, deformed face and black teeth. An Orc. Harry took his sword. 'Wait, one orc? That means…' his head shot around, just in time to see a sword aiming in his direction. He ducked and ran for it. The Orcs hot at his heels. His body was exhausted from the short night's sleep and the long run he'd had to get out of the village. His feet and head hurt and he had a stitch in the side. But he ran on. He knew, the moment he would stop would be his death. The rash language had to be the black speech. It was spoken in the land of Mordor. The place where the nameless evil rose. Harry coughed. He wouldn't be able to do this any longer. Then he heard it. He may have imagined it, maybe it had been a trick in his head, but he still heard it. A voice.

 _"Keep running, little one. The helpless will obtain help. The selfless will experience selflessness. Kindness will be provided the kind ones."_

Somehow, this voice provided Harry energy. But far from enough. He would have to find the town, and he hand no idea where it was. With his luck, he was very likely running in the opposite direction. He would never be able to escape the Orcs. They were already catching up. Harry looked back at the approaching creatures and failed to see the rock on his path. His heart stopped for a second as he fell. His head hit a stone. That was it. He would be dead any minute now. He didn't want to die. His life had been good. He'd had fun. He should have been able to fight when the war came. Argh, and his head hurt. He could feel warm, sticky liquid pour from the place his head had collided with the stone. This was going to be his end. He knew it. A single tear escaped his eye as he thought of his family, his Dad and Estel. At least, he would be able to see his parents now. All this thoughts had been there in the split of a second.

Then the Orcs arrived. One of them bend over Harry with a nasty smile that showed his black teeth. The last thing Harry saw before everything went black, was a trace of silver and white that split the orcs head in two.

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Legolas was beside himself with worry. During Harry's Panic attack he hadn't been able to reach him. Now he was gone. As a child of his size it was by far easier to move in this crowd. From far away he could hear someone scream 'Thief!' and somehow he was sure that this was Harry. Together with Estel he was chasing in the direction Harry had gone off. But he knew: It was no use. That didn't stop the upcoming panic. So they went on and on and on. It was no use trying to find a trace. There were so many people that you couldn't keep a dwarf's footstep from a Man's.

They searched the whole town. No Harry in sight. No trace of Harry. But most importantly: NO HARRY!

Before the panic could prevail completely, Legolas hear a voice. He jumped a little.

 _"Do not fear the little one. He is in care of Lothlórien. You shall be allowed to come and take your son home."_

Legolas stood still. Estel turned around to look at him.

 _"Legolas? What's the matter?"_

The Lady of Light. The Lady of Lórien. Lady Galadriel… Wait, what?

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 **Hello everyone, it's me again :)**

 **Hopefully you enjoyed it (If you didn't, why did you bother reading it?) and will leave me a review, I look forward to you :)**

 **I hope the end was not too confusing. For everybody who didn't get it: Harry was saved by elves from Lothlórien. You'll see why or how in the next chapter.**

 **Now, I still haven't got an answer but I hope the next time I will have a Beta reader.**

 **Thanks for 4 Reviews, another 29 Followers and 27 Favorites since the last chapter.**

 **Sakura Lisel:**

 **1.** Thanks for your positive Review, I hope you like this chapter :) Well in the first chapter, he only speaks a few words. I imagine Harrys first words being related to Quidditch. I mean with his father.

 **2.** Thanks for the second review, too :) I hope I explained it a little bit better in this chapter. Originally, it was a highly appreciated but also rare gift. Evil, famous personalities ruined it's reputation. I think now as they have overcome their concerns, they see it as a gift, too. :) Okay, you may be right about that. I worked through the chapter and changed t slightly. No 'git' and he learned a few wonderful swearwords from dwarfs that traveled through. I hope you like it better now :)

 **Guest 1:**

Sorry, I am Hinny shipper She will be slightly OOC in this story so maybe you like her anyway. You could've had Drarry but I wanted a straight Harry here. So you can decide: Hinny or Drarry. Well, I'm gonna take Hinny anyway, but I think you like that better than Drarry as you obviously don't like slash. And: Harry/ Fleur: I love Bill and I'm not going to take his wife away. Harry/ Hermione: Nope. Forget it. I am a huge fan of their Brother/Sister relationship. I am absolutely anti Harmony. Harry/Daphne: We know nothing about her, she is basically an OC, besides her name. I won't take an OC as main Charakter. 1.: Arwen is about two millenia older than Harry. I like Arwen and Aragorn together, but I can't imagine the two of Harry and Arwen. 2.: There is no character named Tauriel in any of Tolkiens books. I won't use an OC as main character. Even if she was in the film. I'm sorry if you don't like it. Nobody tells you to read it.

 **Guest 2:**

Thanks for the _friendly_ and _polite_ reminder. Was that really necessary?

 **Now, I guess, the next chapter will be up on 26th of December. If I can manage it. Maybe it will be up a little earlier or later.**

 **I look forward to all your Reviews ;)**


	4. Explore your mind - 3

**Hey everyone :)**

 **You know what? (pause for effect...) I have a Beta-reader now! Applause! So I hope there will be less grammar/spelling mistakes than before. Enjoy :D**

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"Watch out for your left!"

"Pay Attention!"

"Faster!"

"Parry!"

"More offensive!"

Estel's shouts sounded sharp like knives in the otherwise silent glade near the palace in Mirkwood. Harry's clothes were wet with sweat and he panted from exertion.

The sword lessons where becoming harder and harder. Estel and his Dad seemed to think that harry was too good for his own good. They feared he would become arrogant if it ever came down to a battle. Harry was sure that he wouldn't. They just didn't seem to believe him. They were also concerned about his near obsession with training and learning. They thought he should be little bit more like other children of the age eleven were. But he didn't feel like eleven years old. He felt older. The night in Lothlórien had changed everything. He knew what he would face - one way or another. And when the time came, he wanted to be ready. As knowledge was power – his grandfather was fond of this sentence – he spent most of his time reading and training. When Estel was out on some mission in the north, he trained on his own and rarely even with his dad.

Harry stepped to the side to evade Estel's trainings sword (made of wood instead on a sharp blade), only to be hit by the also wooden trainings-dagger directly above his heart. Estel had won… again.

"Good, Little one! You didn't forget anything while I was away. But you have to learn to pay attention to more than just to one thing at once."

Harry had propped his hands on his knees and panted heavily. Still unable to answer, he merely nodded. Estel laughed. At least, the Dúnedain's breath was quicker than usually. He was at least slightly exhausted.

"But you're getting better, Harry! You managed to hold up more than twenty minutes! A new record!"

Harry flashed the man a smile and stood up again.

"Thanks. Can we try again?"

"You want to repeat it? Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. Yes, he was sure. In order to be ready for his destiny, he had to be capable of fighting. The day that changed everything repeated itself in Harry's mind.

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*Flashback*

Slowly, Harry became aware of his surroundings. He lay on something soft. In front of his eyelids was very bright light. He would have to open his eyes. But that would cause a headache for sure…

He decided to sleep on for a while for he felt very exhausted. Harry tried to remember what he had done that could have caused this. Slowly, images began to invade his mind.

The Boat, the golden Dragon, the crowd, the panic, the hills and finally the orcs. Harry groaned. Then he knew, where he was. He was dead. He had to be. There was no other option. Dead as the mouse Lugnos had chosen to eat in front of him.

If he was dead, he couldn't get a headache, could he? Well, in Harry's opinion, it was worth a try. The first thing he saw, were many white, golden and green colours. Even though he couldn't see much (apparently he hadn't received a healing draught for his eyes), everything seemed peaceful. The time seemed to have stopped. Magic and many other energies were in the air and tempted Harry to reach out with his magic to discover all of it. He couldn't imagine a place that was more exciting.

"Am I dead? Is this heaven?"

As he hadn't expected an answer, Harry jumped at the sound of someone chuckling. It was a melodious laugh. He wasn't with orcs then. Thank the Valar! Maybe this was one of the Valar?

" _No, Little one. You are in the Land of Lothlórien."_

Harry's eyes grew wide. He was in the 'fairest of all the dwellings of the elves on earth' as his Dad liked to say. He'd heard many stories about the breath-taking beauty of the forest and the Lady Galadriel reigning alongside Lord Cereborn.

" _I am?"_

The melodious Laugh rang through the room again.

" _Indeed, Little one. Would you like to take a healing draught or your unfortunate eyesight?"_

Harry nodded and took the small vial. After pouring the tasteless liquid down his throat, he tilted his head slightly to the side.

" _Thank you. May I ask your name?"_

" _You're welcome, little one. My name is Lhainor. I shall tell the Lady of your awakening though I have the strong feeling that she already knows. She wants to talk to you personally. That is a great honour, little one."_

" _I've heard her. She talked to me when I was running away from the orcs. She has to have much power to be able to affect minds from here to Esgaroth. I heard she was beautiful, even more so than most elves."_

" _You will find that you are true. She is just as beautiful and powerful as the forest here."_

With that, Lhainor stood up, gave him a bright smile and left the room with light steps. Sadly this made it impossible for Harry to know in which direction he went off. He wondered how much time he had until the Lady came to see him. She wouldn't want to talk to him while he was in a nightgown and having unkempt hair, would she? Well, no one in Mirkwood cared how he looked, but there was also no Lady. He'd never met a Lady and didn't really know what to expect. He quickly stood up and looked around in the small room. There was only a small trunk, a small table and a chair. A small pile of clothes along with a jug of water and a comb lay on the desk. Cleaning as fast as he could, he slipped in the comfortable clothes. They were softer than his Travel cloak, but that didn't mean much as the cloak was Man made. He made an attempt to comb his hair but he gave up after a few tries with his hair not looking any different – just as every morning.

Harry stifled a yawn and went to sit on the chair just as a soft knock sounded. Suddenly wide awake, he jumped to the door and hastily opened it. But it wasn't the Lady. It was – sadly – only Lhainor.

" _I see you are ready. Very good. I shall take you to Lady Galadriel now. She awaits you at her mirror. Not many but her have seen through it. Treasure everything you shall see in your heart as it will affect your life – whether if willingly or not."_

Harry could only nod in amazement, stand up and walk after Lhainor. Why did she let _him_ look into the legendary mirror? He was just Harry. No one of importance. Just another child on this huge earth. Small and unimportant. What would it matter if he looked? Important people like Estel or his Grandfather should be looking. Or his Dad. But not him. He wasn't important. Just somebody amongst many somebodies. Harry had no time to ponder any further as Lhainor suddenly stopped.

" _Here. These stairs lead to your destination. Good luck little one, for I know you will need it."_

" _Err, thanks, Lhainor."_

" _I shall leave you now. Do not hesitate too long. Farewell for now, Harry."_

" _Goodbye for now, Lhainor."_

The friendly elf turned around with a solemn expression and was out of sight before Harry realized it. He gulped. He would have to face this all alone. Well. Now, he felt like a grown up. Grownups did everything by themselves, didn't they? Gathering up all his courage he went to see the new and unknown. He didn't particularly like surprises. And he was impatient. This was an unpleasant combination as he wanted to hide somewhere as well as run down the stairs at the same time. He took one deep breath and began ascending the stairs. There stood a tall figure dressed in white with incredibly long blonde hair. The Lady turned around with the same solemn expression as Lhainor on her face. Yet her lips formed a smile as she caught sight of him.

" _Little Harry. You finally have come. I always wondered when you would arrive here in_ _Lothlórien. Your fate is as precisely predicted as few."_

Her voice sounded in his head. It was strange, hearing her talk and yet not seeing her mouth move. Harry was slightly confused. Why would anyone bother to predict his future? There were surely some strange people out there. There was nothing important to be predicted. Most likely these were the most boring prophecies ever made.

" _Do not fear the future little one. You will not go unnoticed by history. You shall be the saviour of the light in another world to return with the more might than ever to help fight the battles the future holds."_

" _Why me?"_

" _Because you have extraordinary abilities, Harry. You can see who deserves forgiveness and who deserves to be sentenced. You see right into the hearts of men. You shall bear the light for two worlds. The one world is to be saved from darkness, the other world needs someone to give the bearer of evil light in the darkness."_

Harry tilted his head slightly to the side. He couldn't imagine himself doing anything like this. 'Maybe' he thought, 'Growing up isn't so much fun. I will have to do so many important things then'. The Lady took a slim jar filled with water seemingly out of nothing. She poured some of it into a flat, silver basin. Then she took a step back and looked at Harry.

" _Look inside for you shall see things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be.* But do not touch the water."_

Cautious, not daring to ask any questions or hesitate, he glanced in Lady Galadriel's mirror. After a few seconds, a grey haze seemed to cover the leaves that were mirroring on the water surface. Then, a moment later the mist seemed to fade and a clear picture appeared in front of Harrys eyes.

A tall man with a white beard, blue eyes and colourful robes stood in front of a man with black hair and a heavily pregnant woman with auburn hair. His parents… He would recognise them everywhere. His father did his best to calm down his mother. She was sobbing. The old man bowed his head and handed his father a piece of parchment. The picture changed slightly so he could look over his parents' shoulders and read the text:

 _ **The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...**_

 _ **born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...**_

 _ **and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...**_

 _ **and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...**_

 _ **the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...****_

Then the image turned hazy again. Harry nearly touched the water in an attempt to hold his parents back but Lady Galadriel's warning was still present in his mind. He knew better than to ignore it. When the mist was gone, he could see a lonely man sitting on a table in a slightly cold looking kitchen. He had a small photograph in his Hand, slightly torn on the edges and the colour fading a little. It looked as if it was always carried around. In the picture Harry could see a baby with a small patch of Black hair and vibrant green eyes. Harry was shocked: It was undoubtedly him. Why did this man have a picture of him? The man looked up from the picture, his grey eyes full of pain, guilt and sorrow. He looked up towards the sealing, sighed and silently mouthed _**Harry**_.

The mirror clouded again and when the mist faded, Harry winced slightly. He saw a young man that resembled himself greatly standing proudly, head up high in the middle of a ring of black hooded people. All those people had committed many crimes. Harry could tell that. He didn't know how, but he knew it. Then he saw the man he was facing in this future. Well, he was not exactly sure: Was this a man? He'd never seen someone like that before. A face like a snake, long, thin limbs that would have been more suitable for a skeleton and red eyes. Harry looked in these eyes and knew: this man had only one intention. Kill the future Harry. Yet the man that was seemingly him smiled and stood tall, as if he had no care in the world. Then, the Snake-faced man sneered and held some sort of stick up in front of his chest, pointing at future-Harry. A sickeningly green jet of light emerged from the tip and flew straight at Harry's future self. Harry knew this would bring death. The green light was created to kill. Everything about this light told cruel stories about death. Harry's future self did nothing to prevent it. He just stood there, smiling. Then, the light collided with future-Harry. Everything went white and for the split of second there was a weird symbol. It looked a little bit like an eye. There was triangle containing a circle and a line. It felt important. The next image he saw, was a figure engulfed in fire with power radiating in small waves from it. He felt extremely mighty seeing and even feeling this picture. Burning didn't seem to bother the figure at all. He couldn't recognize the person, but from the way the figure walked and the way its body was formed, it seemed to be a woman. Then, the grey mist settled over the picture again and before he knew, he saw the leaves of the trees above him and his own face mirroring in the water.

He looked up at the Lady. She looked at him with an unreadable expression. Slowly, Harry stepped a few inches away from the basin and waited expectantly for her to say something. After what seemed like an eternity, she met his gaze and slowly started to speak intently.

" _Never lose your willpower and everything shall be possible. Wait for the fire."_

Harry could only nod, which seemed to satisfy her anyway. He started to become a little unsure under her intense stare. She shook her head briefly and looked towards the stair.

" _You may go now, Lhainor will accompany you to your room. I believe your Foster Father awaits you rather worried."_

Harry thought it would probably good to say something, but his tongue was somehow too heavy to say a word. So he nodded again (feeling somehow very dumb). Careful not to trip over anything, he made his way back to the stairs and up. Just before he was at the end of the staircase, he turned around.

" _Th- chrm – Thank you, milady. I shall keep your words and the pictures in my heart."_

Now it was her who nodded. Harry went away as silent as possible. At the first corner he met the waiting Lhainor.

" _Harry, I hope you had an enlightening trip?"_

" _Er, yes, you could call it that…"_

" _Now, your father awaits you in your room. We shall fetch him and go to dinner, where Estel currently lingers."_

Harry nodded again and followed Lhainor a little bit limply. He would have many things to think about tonight.

*Flashback end*

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Completely exhausted, Harry lay down on the ground. The second duel with Estel had lasted only fifteen minutes until he had felt the sword on in his neck. At least Estel panted, too.

After a few minutes he managed to move his limbs without unbearable effort again, he stood up, took his wooden sword and dagger and walked over to Estel again. The man brushed some sweat off his forehead and started talking slightly out of breath.

"Shall we go back inside? Dinner will be served shortly."

"Really? It's already that late?"

"Ha, you're funny! Already? You're out here since 8 am! You didn't even go inside for Lunch!"

"There was no need to interrupt our training! I was perfectly content with eating bread and cheese here!"

"Yes, **you** were content with it. But I wasn't! There would have been venison! I haven't had good deer in ages!"

"You were camping in the forest. You've had nothing but deer in ages."

"But I meant **good** deer. You know I'm a miserable cook."

"Yes. That you are. But you could've taken me with you. Then I could cook and you'd go off fighting"

"Don't tell me something like that. I would have to tie you up around a tree every time in order to prevent you from coming along."

Harry pouted and crossed his arms. After the raining the two of them would always tease each other. It was almost like a ritual. Harry loved it. It showed him that Estel viewed him as an equal. Not as some irresponsible child. Harry had proven himself worthy many times. He could discuss things just as serious as the elves, he understood middle earths' politics (Not that this subject was very complicated) and he could distinguish joking from being serious.

Estel and Harry parted in comfortable silence, each going to their rooms. Harry took a quick bath and after putting on his clothes, he went into the dining hall for dinner.

He sat down on his usual place next to his Dad, who greeted him warmly. Harry smiled back and helped himself to a few carrots and some chicken. The conversations flowed around him like wind and he couldn't help but relax in this familiar atmosphere.

 _"So, how did the training go, son?"_

 _"Brilliant, I managed to hold up for more than twenty minutes. Estel said I was getting better."_

 _"Wonderful! How about making a break tomorrow? You've earned it."_

Harry frowned.

 _"Why?"_

 _"You're always working. That's not healthy."_

 _"Do we have to talk about this **again**?"_

 _"Yes, Harry, again. I don't want you to break down from over exercising."_

 _"I won't break down, dad. I told you before. I want this. I need this."_

 _"Pausing one day won't kill you. I'm really worried about this. Your obsession with training is becoming a serious issue."_

 _"You thinks so? Well, **I** don't think so! Goodnight, Dad."_

Harry glared at him and stood up. They've had this discussion about a million times. His Dad wouldn't stop trying to get Harry to take a break. But harry knew: Every lost day couldn't ever be given back. He would need every bit of time he had to prepare. Otherwise, pausing one day could very well kill him sometime in the future. He hadn't told his Dad of Estel about anything he'd seen in the mirror. He wasn't sure if he was allowed.

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Back in his room, he took the book on top of the pile next to his desk. The title read 'Skin-changers: Myth or Reality?'. Harry knew of course that Beornings were in fact not a myth as did every person who spent more effort in research than just asking some gossiping old women. But Harry was completely engulfed with the subject. It was the most interesting thing nature had come up with – at least in his opinion.

If only you could learn this ability! There was no better way to hide in the wilderness than to be part of it. Harry opened the book where he had stopped reading yesterday evening. With a sigh he stopped again after he read a page. This book was so useless. No facts just speculations that weren't even based on facts. Just someone who considered himself important writing down what he thought to be completely reasonable and proven thoughts. In truth everyone who knew at least one thing about skin-changers knew, that this book was complete, utter rubbish. But since he had already read all the good and factual books, he was stuck with this.

Harry liked to imagine, what he would become if he was a skin-shifter. Beornings all became bears, so much was clear, but he wasn't anywhere related to that ancient family. So he could become something else if he could transfigure himself into an animal. Up until now, he had no idea, which animal would resemble him most.

With a sigh, he devoted his attention to his book again. He was about to stop reading and toss the book out of the window – not that he'd ever do that to a book, no matter how bad the author was – when something caught his attention.

 **'Most Skin-changers are descendants of Beornings, but it is rumoured, that others, mostly foreign and in mystery engulfed people are able to change their appearance, too. Many people along the river Morthond claim to have seen a man being able to change into a crow. The few inhabitants of the Forochel ice-bay are convinced that they have seen a woman change into a huge, white bear. These rumours have to be confirmed yet but I have managed to get to talk to one of the eyewitnesses.**

 **Kept mumblin' 'bout be'n with you' inner animal or somth'n like tha'. Was always sittn cross legged, eyes closed. Th' Other Day I was walk'n by, he'd gottn him' feathers at his ars - err- bum.**

 **Now, as our eyewitness stated: It is necessary to meditate a lot in order to find your inner animal. No one has been able to witness what comes beyond that.'**

Harry stopped. This was the first time this book had brought something as close to a witness at all. Somehow, Harry wanted to believe the author. It was worth a try, wasn't it? But he would have to ask someone what meditating exactly was.

Just as Harry had closed his eyes and crossed his legs in order to try what the man in the book was doing, a knock came from his door. His eyes snapped open and he fought the urge to say 'I'm busy, go away!'.

 _"Yes?"_

 _"Harry? Can we talk?"_

His dada again. They were stuck in this conflict for what seemed like eternity. Well, in fact it had been only a little over two years. Ever since Lothlórien and the mirror. Harry sighed.

 _"Yes, Dad, come in."_

The Elf closed the door behind him and went to sit on Harry's bed since Harry had occupied the chair next to his desk. His Dad looked him in the eye, with a rather worried expression.

 _"See, Harry, I know you try to hide it, but I know that there's something bothering you. I wanted to tell you in the beginning, that you can always tell me everything. I'm there for you."_

Harry bowed his head shortly before nodding. Could he tell his Dad about the prophecy?

 _"I also know, that this change happened after we went in the village and you stayed in Lothlórien. If it does have to do something with either of these events, please, just tell me about it. Not knowing what's troubling you, is really hard."_

Harry instantly felt guilty. He didn't want his Dad to feel bad because of him. He may be annoying at times, but he was still his Dad.

 _"I just hope that we don't continue to fight like that. I enjoy conversing in a friendly manner so much more."_

Harry nodded but remained silent, fighting an internal battle. Should he tell his Dad? Yes? No? He had avoided and rejected any questions regarding his change for the last two years and to be honest, he grew tired of hiding. He looked up to meet his Dad's still worried look. He made up his mind.

 _"The Lady Galadriel let me look into her mirror."_

His Dad mouthed a silent 'oh'.

 _"I saw my parents as they were given a strange note, possibly the prophecy in this Dumbledore-man's letter. I don't remember every word precisely, but it basically states that I must fight this dark lord-guy because it's either me who defends him or no one and if he lives, I can't survive for neither can live while the other survives."_

His Dad nodded, a frown on his face, looking more worried than ever.

 _"Then I saw the present, a man with a picture of me as a baby with a newspaper. He looked awfully sad and then he looked at the ceiling and said my name."_

His dad didn't seem to be worried about this one though the frown was still present.

 _"Next, I saw the future. There was a man that looked like me, though he was more confident than me, I think. He stood in the middle of dark people with dark souls. A man who seemed more like a skeleton with a snake face than a human. The snake man killed my future self with a jet of green light that came out of a stick he pointed at me. Then there was a strange symbol – I can draw it, wait."_

Harry draw the line, the circle at its end and the triangle surrounding both and showed it his Dad.

 _"It seemed to be important. Then I saw a woman that was engulfed by flames, which didn't seem to bother her though. That's it. The Lady only told me to never lose my willpower and to wait for the fire. Don't know what that means, though."_

As Harry finished, his chest felt lighter. As if he had just vanished a huge weight crushing him down that he hadn't noticed before. He was relieved to feel this way. He didn't feel guilty sharing his experience. His Dad was still silent. After a few minutes, Harry became slightly awkward.

 _"Err, Dad? Don't you want to say something?"_

He seemed to snap out of some sort of stupor and looked confused at him, before he shook his head and opened his mouth to speak.

 _"Okay, Harry, I can understand you now, at least partly. But you still have to consider my argument: You won't do your future any good, if you break yourself by over exercising. You'll have to take a break once in a while in order to not hurt yourself, okay?"_

Harry stared at his Dad for a moment before hesitantly nodding. He wasn't quite comfortable with the break, but since his father knew everything now, and still hadn't changed his mind, Harry saw that there had to be a little logic in his Dad's opinion.

 _"Is there anything else you can or want to say? How do you feel about this whole thing?"_

 _"To be honest? I feel confused. I don't see me being able to do any of these stuff. I don't want to be the one fighting dark lords. I just want to be another soldier amongst millions. But apparently that won't come true. Otherwise I haven't given it too much thought. I like to distract myself from that topic. Concentrating on other things helps to calm me down a bit."_

His Dad nodded and they both sat in comfortable silence for a while.

 _"So, we are good again?"_

 _"Yes, Harry, we most certainly are."_

Harry grinned and jumped on his feet to hug his Dad. He heard him chuckle and was relieved to see the smile on his Dad's face.

 _"I will leave you alone now, I'm sure you have a lot to think about, little one."_

 _"Okay… Err... Wait, just a quick question: what is mediating?"_

His Dad looked surprised.

 _"Meditating is... a kind of relaxation, I guess. You close your eyes, sit in the lotus position and just explore your mind. It helps you to focus yourself. It's good to do it before a battle. You will be able to concentrate better."_

Trying not to forget anything, harry nodded once again.

 _"Thanks, Dad."_

 _"You're welcome, Harry. See you tomorrow."_

 _"Good night."_

Harry smiled at his Dad as he left his room and settled down on his bed as soon as the door was closed.

Mind made up, he crossed his legs to the lotus position. Closing his eyes, he tried to think nothing. When his head was clear of emotions, he concentrated on the feel inside his head.

He tried to imagine his memories hidden in trunks. Slowly exploring his head, he noticed different currents of energy. They didn't seem to come from his head. There were two types of this energy: Very powerful currents, accompanied by the tingling feeling of magic, similar to the sensation that always accompanied Mithrandir and the other current that made him feel warm and loved.

He decided to follow one of the warm currents. It went somehow down, away from his mind. The comfortable warmth threatened to overwhelm him, but he managed to fight it. Then, Harry reached the source of the feeling. A somehow shapeless ball of colours.

The majority of the thing was red and white. A few golden and light blue spots were press over the whole thing. Harry was fascinated. He could watch that thing forever. It spoke of loving, being loved, honesty and purity.

Buy something wasn't quite right. His gaze found a dark spot on the edge. Barely visible against the colourless black around the colour-thing. It felt evil. It spoke of merciless ambition, cruelty and murder. This part was oddly shaped – a lightning bolt, like his scar Somehow it was mostly of a nasty green colour, the same as the jet of light that killed his future self in Galadriel's mirror. A few spots were also pitch black.

Looking at this spot, Harry felt the urge to vomit. He wanted to rip this part away from this colour-thing. He felt dirty looking at it. Like he was tainted. As if he was contagious and could die from disease at any moment. He didn't want to have this thing there. It didn't belong to the colour-thing. It was an unwanted intruder.

Harry forced himself to look away. As soon as him eyes found the more beautiful, lighter colours, he felt relaxed again. He didn't manage to resist the comfortable warmness that threatened to overwhelm him this time.

He felt like he was falling. He fell and fell and fell. Without obstacles or anywhere to fall onto. He just fell into nothingness. Suddenly, it stopped. Now, he was floating in nothingness instead.

He closed his eyes and imagined Mirkwood forest around him. He just wished he could fly in reality, too. Not just here- wherever 'here' was.

When he suddenly felt ground under his feet again, he hesitantly opened his eyes. He was in a forest - that much was clear. But what a forest! Not like anything Harry had ever seen. The air was warm and humid, the plants looked otherworldly and strange. Not even the trees looked familiar. They were huge. Higher than Mellyrn but not as beautiful and they looked very old. Harry realized, that he was running. Odd, he couldn't remember starting to move. He looked at his feet and if his body would actually obey, he would have literally jumped.

He had Paws. Huge, black Paws. Similar to a cats, but bigger. Harry gulped. What was this place? His feet ran faster. Gracile he made his way through the trees. Then, only the split of a second before he would have fallen into a small pond, he stopped. Colourful fish he'd never even heard about swam right under the water surface but sped away as Harry arrived. Then he got a look at his reflection. This time, he did jump. Away from the water that is. There was a huge black animal with even huger teeth staring back at him. Pitch black fur, emerald green eyes and a long, cat-like tail. He had never heard of or seen such an animal. There was certainly no such cat-creature-thing in middle-earth. But Harry had to admit – it looked impressive. He parted his lips to look at his teeth again. He had fangs. How awesome was that?! He touched them with his tongue. They were sharp as needles.

He tried moving his tail next. 'Okay', Harry thought 'This is just gross'. He could find no words to describe what it felt like to have a tail. A little bit like another arm that was used to hold balance. His ears twitched as he heard a ruffle in the leaves behind him.

 _"Is anyone here?"_ Harry tried to say, but instead only a fearsome growl came out of his mouth.

 _"Wow."_ Another cat-like sound.

 _"This is just the most weird and simultaneously awesome thing I've ever experienced."_ The sound that came out of his throat were mostly a mixture of meows and hissing. Harry decided to stop speaking, as it was really – like really _really_ weird.

He'd just decided to get up and explore this strange place more, as the leaves ruffled again. He jumped on his feet, stumbled as he was not used to having four legs with paws instead of merely two legs with feet and fell straight into the water.

With a gasp, Harry opened his eyes. He still sat in the same position as when he first closed his eyes. Sunrise seemed to have just started. Had he really been out for so long? Harry yawned and stretched his back. He froze when he felt something hit his back. He looked around. He still had a tail. Harry blinked a few times. How in the world should he explain his Dad, Estel and everyone else that he'd grown himself a tail from a huge, foreign, cat-like creature that didn't even exist in middle earth?

Harry forced himself to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help him now. Slowly, his mind became clear again and he was once again able to focus. Okay, Meditating brought the tail, Meditating would vanish it again (hopefully). So Harry started the whole process again. Lotus position, eyes closed and clearing his head from all thoughts and emotions. Once again in his imagination with his memory trunks, he found the currents after some search again. Deciding to take one of the other type now, he followed the tingling sensation he associated with magic. After some time flowing with the current, he saw once again a colourful, shapeless spot. It was different from the other colour-thing. This here was indescribable. It had a shape but you couldn't compare it to familiar shapes. It was coloured, but a colour with no name and no chance of comparison to known colours. The only thing Harry could think of was 'Magic'. The spot radiated power. The whole thing was raw energy. Pure power.

Harry reached out – if with his hand or with his thoughts, he didn't know – and grasped some of it. He concentrated. The tail. He felt the power tingle down his spine into his lower body half. He tried to let it all flow into the tail. Then he tried to vanish it somehow. To his surprise, it even worked. The feeling he had now, was strange. As if the Energy was sucking up the cells of the tail like a sponge sucked up water.

Slowly, he became exhausted once again. He was losing his grip on the magic. With last effort, he managed to get the energy inside the colour-spot again. Then he opened his eyes again.

The sun shone brightly into his room. Harry struggled slightly getting up but managed it. Looking out of the window, he gasped. From the sun's position he could see that it was well past noon. He'd had missed out breakfast and lunch.

He sat down on his chair again. Doing magic was exhausting. Not as exhausting as in the beginning when he had no control over how much of his energy he put into an action but still extremely draining. His stomach grumbled. He was hungry. He groaned and stood up again. Wondering if this was how orcs felt in daylight and made his way toward the door. A short trip to the kitchens and a very long nap would be the best now.

The moment he wanted to open the door, someone knocked against his door. Sighing, he opened the door. Food. Thank the Valar! His Dad had come and brought him food. Mumbling something that could be interpreted as a 'thanks' he took the tablet out of his Dad's arms and started eating even before he had placed the tray on the desk and himself on his chair.

His Dad had a smirk on his face.

 _"Hungry, are you?"_

 _"Wef. Prawtished mashsih."_

 _"What?"_

Harry swallowed his mouthful chicken and cleared his throat.

 _"I have been practising magic. Basically the whole night, though I didn't realize that until dawn."_

 _"You did what?!"_

Harry grinned sheepishly at his Dad exasperated face.

 _"Practised magic the whole night?"_

A heavy sigh left his Dad's mouth and he shook his head.

 _"I guess I should give you a dictionary."_

 _"A Dictionary?"_

 _"Yes. I am under the impression, that you clearly don not know what 'Break' means."_

His Dad's harsh words were somehow not as threatening when he wore a small smile on his face.

 _"Yes, dad, that would probably be for the best. And I would need the dictionary for another reason, too. I need to change the definition of Skin-changer. Not only Beornings can change themselves into animals. And you cannot only change into a bear. I found my so called inner animal during meditating. I'm some kind of huge black cat. It's awesome and scary at the same time. I'll just have to manage the transfiguration."_

If he had known how long it would actually take him to change into the animal fully, he would have never said 'just'.

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 **Here I am, again :)**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing :) Tel me what you think about it. Was the whole mind-exploring thing a little weird?**

 **Can you guess which animal he saw? Well that shouldn't be too difficult ;)**

 **Do you know what the two colour-spot-things were?**

 **I hope to recieve a few reviews again ;)**

 **Davycrockett100:**

Thanks :)

 **Guest:**

Is today soon enough? ;)

 **Mishi Gohiku:**

Aww, thanks :) I have neither (Well, I have a little brother though he is nly a year younger than me). I guess I'll consider this as a huge complimet ;)

 **Myra the Dovahkiin:**

Thank you for your nice review :) Yes, just what I thought.

 **Gracealma:**

Thanks for your three reviews :)

1.: Thanks.

Yep, Our little Harry likes languages. It won't be really important for the plot though.

Thanks again ;)

2.:Thanks :)

3.:Yep, he's still parselmouth after all. He got sick from magical exhaustion. He drained his magical core completely as he had no conrtol over how much energy he put into his work.

Nope. Lugnos is a very nice snake ;)

Thank you. I really enjoyed writing it.

 **Fierrokc:**

I hope you will enjoy this chapter just as much :)

 **Sakura Lisel:**

Okay, first off, thanks for your honest Review. I will just tell you my honest answer. No offense meant to you or anybody.

Before I say anything: I am still 'hard-core' Hinny shipper ever since the second book. Harry and Ginny belong together in my opinion. (Yes, there are good fanfics with other pairings like Drarry or sth but I don't think I can write that.)

So, now I really like Luna, but I can't imagine Harry being able to deal with her every single day in his life. He needs someone he can rely on, someone who can bring him back on the floor when the world is crashing down around him. Luna's attics can be sweet and quite amusing but she's not the kind of person Harry needs. Look at Slughorns Christmas party: The only thing he really enjoyed with luna was laughing about / with her. That's what friends do.

A female Draco would basically be an OC. And mostly their relationships base on their rivalry at school turning into passion and love. Here is no Harry in Hogwarts. In fact, Hogwarts won't even be the same. I don't want to tell more about that. I guess I'll tell some of it in the 5th or 6th chapter.

She got over her crush in fifth year. She followed him into the ministry, when it was clear they would face death eaters and even Voldemort himself. You certainly wouldn't do that for some silly celebrity-crush. And honestly, when that crush started, she was most likely six or sth. You can't blame a six year old girl for adoring a hero she heard about in her bedtime stories.

You think she really did that? I think she would have more likely exaggerated like girls often like to do while gossiping. And seeing that Arthur hears it and yet does not do anything about it, just shows that h either knows about it or knows she is exaggerating. I like Molly (I also like some Molly bashing) but I can't see her making Ginny do these things. And – are you kidding? – Cho Chang? Harry needs someone who can make him laugh, not someone who makes him think it was his fault that his girlfriend cries all the time. I can understand it was an emotionally difficult time for her – but please – you don't talk to you crush about your recently killed boyfriend and how much you miss him. That shows the emotional range of a teaspoon.

Come on – if you're really in love, you don't give a damn about things other people say. And In the book no one ever says this to either of them.

Well I hope I made my opinion as clear you yours. I'm going to stick with Hinny either way ;) But she – as basically everyone in the HP world will be slightly OC as Harry's disappearance made a huge difference. I will cover it from fifth or sixth chapter on as long as I need to.

Now, that was a long answer ;)

 **Now, next chapter will be coming January 15th. I wish you a happy Christmas and a wonderful new year.**

 **See you next chapter :)**

 **P.S.: * is not mine but J.R.R. Tolkien's**

 **P.P.S.: ** is not mine but J.K. Rowling's**


	5. Realisations - 4

**Hey everyone :)**

 **I'm here again, a little late, but who cares? ;) The next chapter is nearly finished so it should come in time :) There should be no grammar or spelling mistakes, thanks to Swallow-Tailed Kite , my wonderful Beta-reader ;)**

 **Now, enjoy ;)**

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Winters around the Lonely Mountain were always a magnificent sight. With everything clad in white, fluffy snow, the lakes and rivers mostly ice covered, and the mountain majestically towering above the landscape, most would call it the most beautiful time of the year. Nothing at all seemed to be different this year. Sadly, appearances were often deceiving.

Rumours could be heard everywhere. Rumours about Mordor, the black, tainted lands. Rumours about Dark forces being as active as they hadn't been in decades. The citizens eyed every stranger with fear and hostility. The rangers were having more trouble along the borders. Armies were put on standby. Rulers forged alliances. Rumours about orcs attacking villages were floating around and managed to throw even the most isolated towns into a state of distress. It was as if a threatening, dark cloud was hanging above middle earth.

It was astonishing how much could change in seven years. Harry was now eighteen. He'd lessened his training-efforts after he'd suffered an emotional and physical breakdown when he was fifteen. Neither his mind nor his body had been able to comprehend his expanded attention to his magic after he'd seen his magical core in a somehow physical form. If you know how something looks, then you will be able to change and manipulate it easier – that had been Harry's philosophy. He was proved right as it was much easier for him to get a grip on his magic after he'd been able to imagine what he was doing, though this act didn't lessen the energy that performing the magic took up. After his breakdown, Mithrandir had tried to explain him a little more about magic. Magic was a little like a muscle. The more you used it, the more endurance it possessed and using it would eventually become easier. But if you strained a muscle too much it would cause damage - like a torn muscle fibre. It was the same with magic.

Harry really appreciated the explanation even though it had been a little too late at that point. But he had learned his lesson and didn't want to go through that ever again. It had taken him about half a year to recover fully. Looking back, he knew when he should have stopped and how much less he should have done in order to not break down. Because feeling like shi… err – feeling bad is not something you will willingly bring to yourself if you know how to avoid it. So, Harry's training became less and he didn't spend every free minute working anymore. This, though, did not mean he stopped his training with Estel. As soon as he was given the permission to do so, he was outside again with his training-sword in hand, waiting for Estel to return from his latest adventure.

Soon he was going to reach an advanced level of his training. On the first day of March, when the snow was mostly gone, they would set out. Harry had dreamt of this day ever since he was introduced to Estel – no, ever since he'd heard about the rangers. He was going to go with Estel. Harry was going to accompany the ranger as he patrolled along the borders.

Now, as it was one day before they would head off, Harry was packing a relatively small bag Estel had given him. One set of extra clothes, a copy of his favourite picture of his parents – he'd made it all by himself. Magic was such a wonderful thing – a small pot, a little bit of paper, ink, and a quill. He was just stuffing an extra jacket into the bag when someone knocked softly on the door. Harry didn't look up or say anything. He didn't need to. He knew only one person who knocked like that. She wouldn't need an answer.

"You are really going?"

He could hear the resignation in Maechenebil's voice. He smiled and looked up in her sad face.

"Yes, but don't worry. I'm going to come back."

He always been closer to Maechenebil than to the others, something that was intensified after he broke down. He'd been assigned to help in the gardens – gardening was calming for the soul, as his grandfather had said. Maechenebil was told to look over him. She took her task very seriously. Before he knew it, she was not only his supervisor but also his shoulder to cry on, berating him when he crossed any lines, and cheering him up when he was feeling depressed. At first, it had been a little irritating and confusing to have someone mothering and fussing over him, but somehow it also felt really good. Not that his Dad wasn't wonderful and the best dad he could have wished for, but he was just that: a Dad. He'd never had something like a mum. He didn't Maechenebil call 'mum' though, because that would be a little too much and could create a rather awkward atmosphere between her and his Dad.

"Are you sure that you have everything? Do you need any help?"

"I'm pretty sure I have everything I need. Just a trip to the kitchen tomorrow and I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"You've grown so fast… can't you be the little boy I used to tell bedtime-stories again? I didn't have to worry about you so much back then. It would've been at least thirty two years until you were so… so grown up if you were an elf."

She looked lost in her thoughts, so Harry used the silence to turn back to his Bag. He was ready. Taking deep breath to calm the upcoming excitement, he closed his eyes for a second. He was ready for this. He had trained for this since he was seven years old. He was prepared. There was nothing to fear. He knew how to deal with Orcs and Wargs. He knew how to survive in case he was separated from Estel. He knew how to battle. He knew how to include his magic in battle. He knew everything Estel had taught him by heart. Why did he feel so afraid then? Was this a bad sign? What if everything ended in a disaster? What if he forgot everything he learned under stress?

The feeling of a small hand on his cheek made him open his eyes again. Maechenebil smiled sadly at him again. She stood on tiptoes and still had to bring his head down a bit in order to give him a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I'm sure everything will be alright. You will scare all those evil things to death."

Harry laughed, his worries a little eased, his doubts safely locked away in the back of his mind.

"Of course, Maechenebil, everything you say."

She captured him in a bone breaking hug. She held him close for a few seconds and then let him go. When Harry was finally able to breathe again, her smile was a little less sad and her expression was a little less worried.

"I wanted to fetch you. Dinner is about to start. Come on, you need a nice meal – oh, and don't you dare staying up late! You need to be up early tomorrow. We don't want you falling asleep on your way!"

Harry chuckled a bit but tagged along. That was his Maechenebil – always fussing and mothering him. But that was her and Harry loved her anyway.

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Despite Maechenebil's warning, Harry didn't go to sleep early. Now, in the morning, he seriously regretted it. But he just hadn't been able to sleep. He'd felt like a rabbit on a sugar high where the mere thought of closing his eyes had seemed like an impossible task. Now, he stood tiredly in front of a mirror and routinely hid his daggers under various articles of clothing. A knock on the door jerked him out of his drowsy state.

"Is it already time?"

"Nearly."

The tense edge in his Dad's voice concerned Harry, despite his half asleep status.

"Is everything okay, dad?"

"Yes. I'm just worried, but I'm your dad and parents always worry. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"I'm sure I'll manage everything."

"I know. You are very good. I just wish you would have stayed a kid for a little longer."

Harry smiled softly at his Dad's attempts to look not worried.

"You do. But sometimes you find out things that make you grow up. Sometimes you have no other choice."

His Dad shook his head sadly.

"Yes, but you could have talked to me about everything. You could have told me what you heard. Maybe you had a choice and just didn't see it."

Harry was silent for a few moments, wondering what his life would have been like if he had either never heard of the prophecy or if he'd told someone about it. But he just couldn't help but think that he had made the right decision. Everyone who knew about it would either pity or worry him. He despised both options.

"I don't think so, Dad."

The blonde elf nodded with sad eyes and hugged him.

"Originally, I had come to say goodbye, so here I am. Goodbye and good luck, son. I believe in you."

Harry smiled. His Dad believed in him. Maybe that was all he needed. He was not going to let him down. He was going to make them all proud. His Dad, Maechenebil, his parents by blood, and Estel. Trying to put all sincerity he could muster in his voice, he said softly, "Thanks."

They let go of each other and Harry grabbed his bag and bow.

"You are going down to the kitchens?"

It was more a statement than a question, but Harry answered anyway.

"Yep. Need to fetch my provisions."

"Do you want some company?"

Harry grinned and nodded before heading for the door. He tripped over a small chair and hit his knee at the edge of his bed in the process… by the Valar, there was no way he would ever stay up this late again!

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Half an hour later, Estel was leading a half asleep Harry through Mirkwood forest at a very fast pace. Their speed shouldn't bother Harry though. Estel liked to chase him around the forest after they finished their sword training. A little fast walking should be nothing against that. Harry's words, slightly slurred, broke the silence.

"So… where are we going to go first?"

"Didn't we talk about that just before we headed off? And yesterday? And the day before yesterday and the whole moth before that?"

"Oh, yes, right. Elrond's place and then the northern borders of the Shire. Right."

Estel smirked a little but said nothing. Harry had to be very sleep-deprived if he forgot about those conversations.

"And… why are we going to Rivendell again?"

"Just think a bit. I might have mentioned something about that sometime in the past few years. Once, twice, maybe even all the time when we spoke of family?"

"Ohh. Yes, right. You were raised by the elves there. Right. Sorry, forgot that."

Harry sounded as if he'd just solved the greatest mystery of all time. By the Valar, that boy was not working well without sleep.

"Sure you have."

"Yes, yes. But... will we get to see Halflings?"

"Well they live in the Shire. We'll need to cross it in order to get to the borders so – yes. We will."

"Oh. Great."

"Sure."

"Estel?"

"Yes?"

"When are we going to take a break?"

"Not until noon. We're walking barely for quarter an hour."

"But that's very long, isn't it? For a fly, it has certainly been a very long time, hasn't it?"

"Harry?"

"Yes Estel?"

"Shut up."

It went on like that for two days – apart from Harry's questioning. That stopped after a good night's sleep. They reached the edge of the woods after a day and as the second day neared its end, they decided to take a little break in the small village.

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Smiling brightly to conceal his uneasiness, Harry made his way through the small but crowded marketplace of the little town. He didn't like crowds. In fact, Harry absolutely despised loud, pushing and shoving gatherings of humans. He'd never liked them and he would never come to like them. But he still had to get through this. This was the last village before they'd have to cross the Misty Mountains. The last chance to eat something fresh and tasty for about two weeks. Their stockings of lembas had been left for the difficult part: the very mountainy part. In the forest, they had hunted their everyday meals on the land, in the sky, and in the water in order to not eat the lembas. Now, Harry did his best to ignore the people surrounding him and instead tried to focus on the delicious smells that were invading his nose from all sides.

One very persistent and most delicious smell caught his attention: fresh currant bread. The thought of his favourite, warm, soft food made his mouth water. Signalling Estel who stood nearby next to a butcher's market stall and receiving a nod in return, Harry made his way in the direction where his nose led him.

A small queue stood waiting in front of the booth. Everyone was declaring loudly and simultaneously what he or she wanted. Harry was suddenly very happy that he wouldn't have to see this place again for at least two months. Humans in marketplaces were very tiring. With a small sigh, Harry dived right into the crowd-queue-mix. He waited patiently until the woman behind the counter had served everyone who had been there before Harry. He also didn't hesitate to 'accidentally' bump rudely into those who tried to push to the front.

It was an act of patience. Patience wasn't something he was good at, had never been good at. But he had something to occupy himself with: watching the woman behind the counter. She wasn't old, about seventeen from what he saw. Long black hair that was held back by a scarf around her head, a few freckles spread over her face, and light blue eyes. Harry had to admit she was pretty. Not a breath-taking beauty like the elves but still pretty. And he couldn't bring himself to think of the elves in that way. They were beautiful, yes, but they had also seen him grow up and somehow everybody seemed to have changed his nappy at some time – he couldn't think of a better mood-killer than that. Well, now, back to the present: pretty bakery-woman.

As it was finally his turn, he flashed her his most charming smile and watched delightedly as she blushed slightly.

"Hello. What can I do for you, Sir?"

Was there a seductive undertone in her voice?

"Do you have currant bread?"

"Yes Sir, how much would you like?"

Yes, there was definitely something flirty in her voice.

"Two slices please. I'm Harry, by the way."

No shame in flirting back now, is there? She flashed him a bright smile, still a light blush on her cheeks.

"Maura. Two slices of currant bread for you, Harry."

Harry paid and took the bread, winked, and left in the direction he had come from. He found Estel fairly quick, seeing how many people were here. The man was standing in the shadows of a narrow alley with a knowing smirk on his face.

"What?"

Harry felt his face heating up and took a bite out of his bread as an excuse to say nothing.

"You chose the wrong one, Harry. See? There?"

Harry turned to look in the direction Estel was pointing and coughed. A man had walked up behind the woman, gave her a kiss on the forehead (one which she clearly did not enjoy) and gave her a small child that she lifted up (and she clearly did enjoy that). Okay… he had just flirted with a married woman who was also a mother and didn't seem to be older than him. Weird.

"Bad luck, I suppose."

"Yes. You, little Harry, have no luck with women."

Refraining from answering, Harry glared playfully at Estel and punched his arm lightly. Just because he had a few very short and painful — slaps really hurt, try to avoid them — relationships in Esgaroth when he was sixteen didn't mean he was a useless case. He had lived down there for a few months in the inn that was the Golden Dragon. His Dad hadn't liked to let him do that but Estel insisted, pointing out that Harry become more independent.

"Any more plans for today?"

"No. I'm done with people for today."

"Wow, Harry, that's new. Just for today?"

"Nah. Probably for at least a year. But I won't get the pleasure of so much time."

"Too right. Now, let's go looking for a place to sleep."

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They set up a small camp at the shores of the Anduin river. It had already been pretty late when they arrived in the village and sunset had arrived fast. Now, the night was dark — only a two days after new moon. It was only a few minutes to midnight by the time Harry laid on the ground, his bag used as pillow and his warm blanket draped over him. Estel had the first watch. Every night they would sleep like that. Estel took the first shift and Harry the second. Harry had no problem with getting up early. It could be 3 am and he would be as awake as any other person would be at 3pm, at least when he'd gone to bed to a reasonably time. But staying up late — no, not with Harry. Unless of course, you wanted to have a totally useless, annoying, dead weight the next morning. Given the fact that Estel preferred staying up late, the two of them were the perfect match.

While waiting patiently for his well-earned sleep to claim him, Harry let his thoughts drift. What would it be like when they finally arrived at their destination? Would there be many fights? Would he finally be able to really, truly help? He felt adventurous. Just thinking about finally being able to physically do something to help made him want to jump up and walk through the night. But he knew this was stupid. Even though his magic could help him through this, he cannot stay awake forever. His magic could help him if he was really exhausted, as if he was sustained on his magical energy instead of his physical strength. It was really useful when he was completely drained in a duel or physical exercise. He often tried to see his magical core in a visible form again, but his successes had been few and far between. Only three times had he been able to get to the point where he'd been at his first time. He really wanted to see it again. Harry was still curious about the dark patch on his — as he figured out — soul. But sadly, he couldn't find anything about it in Mirkwood's library. Not being able to achieve anything — neither through his mind nor through research — peeved him greatly. That must have been beginner's luck. Just like the animal-form. After that one night of meditating, when he had gotten himself a tail, he hadn't accomplished anything regarding the skin-changing. Nothing. Nothing at all in the seven years he had tried. His frustration about the lack of progress wasn't particularly helping either. The more frustrated he got, the further away from success he felt and the further from success he felt, the more frustrated he became. It was a doom loop.

Turning around so he lay on his back, Harry looked at the stars. Were his parents somewhere up there? His past? He didn't think about the world he left behind as a toddler. He couldn't really remember anything. Just glimpses of impressions had remained. Red hair was always comforting, stags were protecting. It didn't help too much when he was trying to imagine the old world, as he liked to call it. Harry sighed. It was no good to dwell in the past when you had all the wonderful adventures and tasks lying right in front of you.

Stars fascinated the elves, especially his dad, and Harry loved the little light points, too. There was so much space up there, so much unexplored things. Looking up there made him feel free and very small at the same time. He was just another boy under thousands of boys. If he hadn't been here, nothing would have been different. Well, at least nothing important. The ink-black sky seemed to become even darker and threateningly sent a few clouds to cover the stars he had been staring at. Suddenly, he couldn't stand to look up at the sky without feeling his chest tighten. He was nothing. If he had never arrived here, or if he should die, the time would just go on, never pausing, never stopping. Like a waterfall.

He watched the river instead. Quietly gurgling, always going and never stopping until it found its destination in the sea. Harry wished he knew where his destination lay. It would be comforting to know if he had such a clear aim as the Anduin's water. But sadly, he didn't. Harry turned around once again, finally feeling drowsy enough to sleep.

"Harry!"

Estel's harsh shout jerked him awake again. Harry was up on his feet in seconds. He knew that tone in Estel's voice. There was something serious and very dangerous going on somewhere.

"I'm here and awake, what's the matter?"

"Look. The village."

Harry turned to gaze in the direction of the town and held his breath. It was engulfed in flames. Dark silhouettes were swarming around. Harry didn't hesitate a second. Grabbing his bow, quiver, and his sword, he followed Estel towards the city. Excitement and an adventurous feeling flooded his veins together with adrenaline. The run blew every thought out of his head and let him focus solely on the upcoming battle. His first battle. Well, his first real battle. Every four years, there was a training-battle in Mirkwood to keep the soldiers sharp. One year ago, he'd been allowed to participate. Harry had fun. Really, it had been an exciting experience. Now he was going to show his skills by really helping people. As if on cue, Estel and Harry stopped.

The men in the city were doing their best to fight off the dark creatures – orcs – with everything they had. But the best intentions didn't help the men much as they were completely outnumbered and they had no idea how to deal with orcs. The citizens were reluctant to take lives. But you can't really stop an orc by trying to disarm them. That was a very bad idea.

'Go for the head!' Harry mentally screamed but they naturally didn't hear him. Looking towards Estel who nodded, they jumped up simultaneously and ran towards the turmoil, the deadly mix of men and orcs, with a determined cry. Subtlety wouldn't be much of a use here. While running they respectively took down three of the enemy with arrows. Six down. About a hundred remaining. Great, the fun would last a little longer. Grinning a little, he took out his short sword and a very small, barely visible but deadly, poisoned dagger in the other hand.

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Harry turned, slashed, stabbed, punched and killed. He didn't think. His brain had switched off the thinking and turned on the instincts. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he barely registered the growing exhaustion, the aching muscles and his sore body. He fought with everything he had and after what seemed like a minute to his brain, a few days to his body and was in reality about three hours, the orcs withdrew. They hadn't won, they hadn't even managed to kill half of the orcs, but these creatures were cowards. Well, at least when doing something on their own accord. They only fought if they outnumbered their enemy, if their enemy wasn't prepared and if they were sure they would win. As soon as a few more orcs than expected were killed, the orcs got cold feet and fled.

Harry slowly sank to his knees and sat down after the last orc was gone. Taking a deep breath, he looked at his blade, the dark muddy orc-blood on it dripping to the floor. He looked around. Estel was not far away, nursing a man who had apparently lost his arm. Harry turned around, feeling slightly nauseated. Standing up with shaking legs, he looked around. Houses stood in flames, screams disrupted the night's usual silence, wounded people lay everywhere. Harry gulped. This wasn't glorious at all. This hadn't been fun at all. Slowly, he made his way through the battlefield, wincing as he tried to move his arm. Looking down, he saw a long gash all the way from his elbow to his shoulder. Why hadn't he noticed? The dagger he held in his left hand was tucked into his pocket. He couldn't remember putting it there. Harry saw everything as if through thick haze. He tripped over something. Getting up again, his eyes searched the floor. His heart stopped for a moment. Maura. Her pretty blue eyes were staring lifeless into the sky, a glassy look in them. She held her child's hand, a daughter with the same dark hair as her. Harry turned around, feeling very, very sick. He made a few steps before he couldn't bear it anymore and threw up.

Battle wasn't glorious.

Battle wasn't fun.

Battle wasn't exciting.

Battle wasn't an adventure.

It was war. Horrible war.

Harry straightened up and wiped his mouth. If he could believe Lady Galadriel, he was able to stop this. And he would stop this. Maybe he couldn't stop battles from happening, but he would do his best to stop innocent people from dying.

He turned to Maura again. He knelt down next to her and gently closed her eyelids. He went to do the same with her daughter, but her eyes were already closed. What? Eyes don't close on their own after death—they remain open. Did that mean…? Yes, he could see it. The little girl was shivering. If he wasn't looking for it, he wouldn't have seen it, but she was shivering. He touched her shoulder as gently as he could. She didn't move.

"Hey. The bad creatures are gone. Come, don't you want to see if we can find your Daddy?"

Harry spoke as softly as he could. He held his breath when she failed to respond. Then, after a few tense seconds, she opened her eyes. They were the same blue as her mother's.

"What's happnd to my mummy?"

"She has gone to a better place where she can always watch you. My parents are there too."

The girl stared up wide eyed at him.

"Really? When's mummy comin back?"

"She won't come back. But she will always be with you. Don't you feel her?"

Harry summoned his magic and created a soft, warm breeze to engulf the girl. He let the wind glitter a little so she would see something.

"That's mummy?"

"Yes. See, she's there, even if you can't see her."

The little girl stretched out an arm, as if to touch the breeze. Her eyes shining a little.

"Now, shall we go and look for your daddy?"

She nodded but said nothing. She was looking up into the stars. Her eyes had lost the shine again and looked dull and sad. Harry helped her up and too her into his arms. The little girl snuggled a little closer to him but did not look away from the stars. Harry walked back to the middle of the village, where the most people were gathered.

"I'm Harry. Can you tell me your name?"

Still not looking at him, she answered with barely a whisper.

"Ines."

"Okay, now, don't be frightened. I will shout now so we can see if your daddy hears me, okay?"

She nodded into his shoulder. Harry took a deep breath and began yelling so everyone could hear him.

"Does anyone have a child named Ines?"

A few seconds, there was nothing. Then:

"Yes! Yes, here. Where is Maura?"

The little girl turned around and, for the first time since Harry talked to her, didn't look at the stars.

"Mummy is gone. She's in a better place where she can watch me, Daddy."

Ines even smiled a little, though it didn't reach her eyes. The man limped towards them. Harry frowned. This wasn't the man he had seen with Maura.

"That's your daddy?"

"Yes. That's my nice daddy."

"Your nice daddy? Do you have another one?"

"Yes, but he isn't nice. But mummy had to live with him 'cause he paid for her. He isn't nice to mummy and me."

"Okay, Ines. Here we go, do you want to be held by your Daddy?"

"Only by the nice one."

"Yes, he's the only one here."

Harry let her down on the floor so she could walk towards the man. But she didn't. Instead, she turned around and hugged him around his knees.

"Can you come stay here, Harry?"

Harry smiled a little and knelt down so he could look into her eyes.

"No, Ines, I have my own home and I have a family, too."

"Can you visit me then?"

"If you want me to. I'll visit you."

"Tomorrow?"

"No. I'd going far away, but I will come back in a few months, then I will visit you."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise you as your friend."

She hugged him again, a small smile playing on her lips and then turned to run to her 'nice Daddy'.

Harry made his way to Estel, who was done nursing the man with the lost arm. He sat down next to his trainer. The two of the sat in silence. Listening to the dying fire around them and the chatter of the survivors. Ines waved a few times and even came to hug him goodbye. She was adorable. It was Estel who broke the silence.

"Maybe, you have luck with women after all."

"What makes you say this?"

"The little girl. Quite a pretty one, eh?"

Harry could hear the smirk in Estel's voice. He playfully smacked the back of his trainer's head.

"Pervert."

"No, I can see it now. In eighteen years: the dream wedding…"

"Yes, with someone who is not me as groom. I will be sitting in the front row though."

"Of course you will."

Then they were silent again. They didn't speak when they got up and returned to their camp. They didn't speak when they both lay down to sleep. They didn't speak when they both couldn't sleep.

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 **Here I am, again :)**

 **I hope you liked it, if you did I would love to recieve a review of any kind :)**

 **Thanks to everyone who favourited and followed the fanfic, it's nice to know I'm appreciated :)**

 **readeroftheValar:**

Thanks for your review :) Harry used the bow in this chapter ;)

 **Guest1:**

Thanks for the compliment :) I was imagining it to be a little bit like venice. You can see it is beautiful but it also feels a little depressing.

 **Guest2:**

Always great for an author to hear that, thank you :)


	6. Shattered world - 5

**Hello there :)**

 **It's me again with a new chapter, hope you enjoy it :) I'm looking forward to your opinion in the reviews :)**

 **Warning:** **This chapter contains torture**

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Pain. Pain everywhere. Pain was the first thing she noticed when she slowly regained consciousness. Hot, agonizing pain that drove her mad. Her blood was boiling, her bones were being broken, crushed, repaired and crushed again, tiny needles ripped open every inch of her skin and her insides were being frozen and burned at the same time. She didn't like it. Why was there pain?

Laughter was the next thing that reached her senses. There was someone who could help her, make the pain stop! But the voice was laughing. Why was there somebody laughing when she was in pain?

Suddenly, the pain left. No pain. Just a little cold now. She shivered. She could feel every inch of her body. Her hands, feet, head and all the other important parts were still there. A good sign. She was lying on something hard cold and slightly damp. She could feel her body shivering again. But, whose body was this?

Her senses came back fully now. She had eyes! Should she open them? Yes, she could remember laughter. Laughter meant fun. She liked fun. Fun was painless. Yes, opening her eyes seemed like a good idea. With great effort, she managed to lift her eyelids.

It was very dark. The only thing lightening the room was a stick with blueish light radiating from its tip. It wasn't very bright though. There was only one other person standing in the room and this person was holding the stick. It was a woman in a long black dress with a corset. The woman was showing much too much cleavage for her taste, but it was that woman's body thus not hers to decide. The woman had long curly black hair, heavy eyelids and slightly creepy smile on her face. The woman took one step towards her. A loud 'click' could be heard as the woman's high heeled boots connected with the stone-floor.

A bad feeling rose in her as the woman continued to walk towards her and that creepy smile on the woman's face got even bigger. She didn't know if she wanted to laugh now. The woman didn't seem to like the same kind of laughing as her. The woman's smile didn't look like fun at all. The woman's smile looked insane. It made the woman look like a maniac. Like a creepy child who just got a wonderful, deadly birthday-present. Like the woman was here to have fun now. But that fun wasn't going to be fun for anyone but the woman.

The woman laughed again. Well, cackled would be a better name for what the woman was doing. The woman looked like a predator advancing his prey. She decided that she didn't like the woman. The woman didn't look fun. The woman opened her mouth again but this time she didn't laugh.

"Don't worry, ickle reddikins. The spell will wear off in no time and we can have fun all day. Doesn't that sound great luv?"

Now the woman cackled again. She shivered violently. Why did her head suddenly feel so clouded? She felt like… like… something in her mind was trying to push itself towards the surface. Like a drowning man who was trying to get through thick ice. Then the drowning man found a hole in the ice. Her eyes grew wide and she tried to stand up as fast as she could. She got to her feet fairly quickly judged by the amount of time she had spent on that floor. How many days had it been? Four? Five? A week? She looked around frantically. No luck. The only way out was past that woman. And she was chained to the dungeon wall. Just great. Straightening, she turned around and glared her best death-glare at the woman she despised most. The most powerful woman in the British Empire. Sadly it was not the queen. It was Lord Voldemort's right hand. His most loyal follower. His unofficial mistress.

And Bellatrix Lestrange didn't glare back. She just laughed again and raised her wand.

"How about a little more fun, luv? No? Yes? Well, sweetie, you don't need to answer, I won't listen anyways, but you could always avoid it and become one of us?"

She glared at Bellatrix with even more hate and if looks could kill, Lord Voldemort would have to look for another toy. She tried to put all the loathing and hatred she had gathered over the years into her voice as she spat back her answer.

"Over my dead body."

"Oh", Bellatrix sounded delighted. "I think we can arrange that, Ginevra."

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* * *

Ginny Weasley always felt well cared for. After all, she was the little baby sister to six older brothers. Yes, it was tough at times, but she still loved her family to bits and was always loved back. Between the twin's pranks, Ron's jealousy, Percy's obsession with career and Charlie being away in Romania Ginny didn't have the luxury of being a cliché 'girlie'. She didn't mind though. She was perfectly fine with having only one female friend. Luna was a little weird at times but that was Luna. Ginny's only female friend became very closed off when her mother died though. That was also when she told her about the wackspurts and such for the first time. Luna's father Xenophilius liked to keep her around since Pandora's death and Ginny didn't get the chance to see her only female friend very often the next few years.

She grew closer to Bill instead. Bill was often in Egypt, but they became some sort of pen pals. Ginny felt closer to him than to any of her other brothers. The twins and Charlie were also pretty close but they still saw the small baby-sister in her. Bill made it sound like she could accomplish everything. He made her feel special.

Then there was Sirius. Ever since Ginny had found the huge black dog in the backyard, the two of them were close. At the age of four she didn't even think of the possibility that her funny black dog would be the 'highly dangerous', newly escaped convict. It was purely on accident that anything changed this. Percy had come back from his first year at Hogwarts. All the attention was on him. Nobody noticed that she took Scrabbers out for a walk - the poor rat had been in a cage for the whole train ride after all. She would've never thought that her 'cute little doggie' would grab Scrabbers with his mouth and run away.

Two months later, Professor Dumbledore came through the floo, announcing that Scrabbers had been the very much alive Peter Pettigrew and that Sirius Black was innocent. Her parents should please take him in until he could get a trial – nobody with a sane mind would expect him to be at the Burrow of all places. It was the same night that Ginny found him as she came back from secret flying-practice, and ever since, they often sat together in the kitchen, late at night with a cup of tea. That night, Ginny found out he didn't sleep very well since Azkaban and Sirius found out about her sneaking out to play Quidditch. Since that day Sirius was the person she would go to when she had problems. They sat together many nights, sometimes talking, sometimes silent and became very close. He was something like her honorary uncle-friend-father-mix. Even after he moved into his own home he was her shoulder to cry on. In return she would help him get over his nightmares and guilt.

Ginny Weasley always felt loved. She had wonderful friends. Sometimes she wanted nothing but to be back in her childhood. But just as often, she wished her childhood would have been entirely different.

Her Parents had joined the order of the phoenix as soon as there was sign of the chaos that would soon break down the ministry's 'perfect peace' after Voldemort's disappearance. It all started when news got out about Harry Potter. The Boy had not been there where he was supposed to be, when someone checked on him. He had in fact apparently never even arrived. Her mother had been outraged at the thought of leaving a Baby on someone's doorstep in the middle of the night and refused to talk to Dumbledore for four months full. Of course Ginny had been too young to truly understand everything that happened back then, but when she heard that the hero of her bedtime-stories had disappeared, she had of course cried - she had only been four after all. Harry Potter's disappearance had also been Sirius motivation to escape Azkaban. The (at that time) high security prisoner had read about it in the newspaper he had - Merlin knew how - obtained. The boy-who-lived's disappearance had been the first setback in the wizarding world's new perfect peace.

It was only a few month later that the peace was disrupted once again: The villages Spinners End, little Whinging and Godric's hollow were burnt down. Not a single house was left standing. Not a single citizen had survived. The death eaters were celebrating a comeback. After all, there was no Harry Potter anymore - who they were apparently afraid of. As ridiculous as the idea of a super-powered five year old boy single-handedly defeating all the remaining Death eaters may have sounded, that was what this terror-organization had feared. No wonder they were following the dark lord – in order to believe something like that you had to be really thick.

The actual catastrophe happened one year before Ginny went to Hogwarts. Voldemort lived a whole year as a parasite on the back of a professor's head. At the end of the year, he managed to steal the philosopher's stone. The dark lord was back. The order of the phoenix was called together immediately. Precautionary, Grimmauldplace 12, Sirius's childhood home and one of the most protected houses in Great Britain – apart from Hogwarts of course – was magically extended. Grimmauldplace's basement went down nearly as deep as the Ministry of magic after its renovation. Every member of the order would be able to move in, in case of emergency.

During these restorations, Dumbledore tried to make Voldemort's resurrection known. To the order's and Dumbledore's shock, the ministry and the Daily Prophet had already been full of Voldemort's men all the time since he'd vanished, ready to serve in case the Dark lord would one day rise again. Well, as Voldemort did just that, they were all busy ruining Dumbledore's reputation and credibility. Rita Skeeter, though no death eater, had been all too happy about starting a weekly column in the prophet, solely about Dumbledore's mistakes. It didn't even take the whole summer holidays to make the wizarding world believe the propaganda. To Britain's wizards and witches, the once highly valued leader of the light was soon nothing more but a senile liar.

How wrong they were.

Since no more attacks happened that summer, her parents thought it safe to send her to Hogwarts. Nobody noticed her new dairy. Nobody noticed her writing the nice, understanding Tom Riddle about her prat of a brother Ron, the twins that were too busy to notice her and the too-important-to-care-for-her perfect Percy. She unconsciously managed to fight the power he gained over her most of the year and somehow got the Basilisk to only petrify – and not kill - students. But at the end of the year, Tom broke her. The Basilisk found its way into the Hufflepuff dorms. The Ravenclaw dorms. The Gryffindor dorms. Even the Slytherin dorms. By the time the sun rose that day, the school truly only consisted of purebloods, a few half-bloods and Ginny who was left in the chamber of secrets to die there. The headmaster – Dumbledore's only title now – was left to discover the blood-bath in the morning, unable to do anything about the horror that came over the school that night. Due to his helplessness, he was determined to safe the only student that could be saved at that point. With the help of Fawkes, his phoenix, he found Ginny, destroyed the Diary and slayed the Basilisk.

Albus Dumbledore was destined to never leave the chamber of secrets.

Phoenix tears could have healed a venomous bite, but the in order to slay the basilisk one had to get into its mouth – the skin was impenetrable. Ginny would never forget the sound of Gryffindor's sword cutting through the basilisk's palate and skull or the following gut wrenching 'crack' as the headmaster's spine and neck were shattered. Fawkes dragged her and the corpse of the leader of the light back to the surface. The phoenix flamed away and wasn't seen again. The only reason Ginny wasn't sent to Azkaban was Ron. Her stupid noble loyal git of an overprotective loving brother. Oh, how much she loved him. He broke into the defence teachers' office and flooed her to Grimmauldplace 12. He had already dragged Hermione Granger's stone-body there. She was a muggleborn and really clever. She and Ron had become friends after a while when Professor McGonagall assigned her as Ron's tutor to help him with his abysmal grades.

When they arrived at Grimmauldplace, hell broke loose. The order's leader dead. Half the Hogwarts pupils' slayed. The minister dead. The ministry fallen. There were all kinds of so called reformations. The Muggleborn were given the lowest, most humiliating jobs. The half-bloods got the jobs too well for Muggleborn and below a Pureblood. Both groups were treated worse than the lowest house-elf. But if they wanted to keep their jobs - and their lives - they had to keep quiet. Suddenly everyone Ginny knew and loved was outlawed. 1000 Galleons price on their heads, dead or alive. The order of the phoenix became something like a swearword outside the headquarters. She and all the other kids weren't allowed to go outside and the adults only went under polyjuice potion maximum one time a day each.

The daily prophet only wrote the death eater's propaganda. What started as very subtle but snide side-comments soon became guides about how to spot and kill a muggle. At first, also none of the attacks happening were reported in the daily prophet. But after a while, news about 'glorious wins against the mudbloods' became more frequent. Harry Potter became a legend, a horror story to scare little children. High ranked Death eaters were celebrated like Quidditch-stars and Voldemort himself was like a myth. Letting himself be surrounded by mysteries, never personally showing up anywhere, only talking to high ranked death eaters managed to get him a god-like reputation.

Her first year at Hogwarts had changed Ginny Weasley. The crush she had on Harry potter, the faith that he would come someday to be her knight in the shining armour on a white horse burst like a bubble. The reassuring believe that adults like Dumbledore and her parents would always come and be able to fix everything vanished into nothingness. It was Sirius who managed to snap her out of depression. It was Sirius who sat with her late at night because she couldn't sleep. It was Sirius who put an alarm spell on her bed to come whenever she had a nightmare and couldn't go back to sleep afterwards. It was Sirius who got her to talk over everything. It was Sirius who helped her dealing with the guilt and the pain.

"I failed James. I failed Lily. I failed Harry. I won't fail you too, Red."

Red. Her so-called marauder name. He told her she had to have one. She was after all something like his honorary daughter-niece-friend-mix. She loved the name. It was simple and a little cliché, but it told her she was accepted. She belonged somewhere. Because she didn't feel like she belonged to her family anymore. Too much had happened that set them apart. They would never understand, no matter how hard they tried. She had seen Tom Riddle's, Lord Voldemorts thoughts and plans from when he was sixteen… Nobody could comprehend what she had gone through. Her father's sad eyes and her mother's desperate attempts to baby her, meant that they had noticed too.

Together with Sirius, she started to leave her childhood behind. Her fun loving, joking and pranking self was dragged more and more into the background. Sirius was her trainer. He got her books whenever he managed to get on outside-duty. He taught her how to duel in his every free minute, they went to the shrieking shack, because Hogwarts was still a school and the ministry wasn't monitoring the trace there. She was there when the Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout held their lessons for all the kids in the headquarters, but Sirius taught her the lessons of life. How to survive in case the headquarters should fall. How to get out of duel against a superior alive. How to run away without being caught. How to cheat properly. How to bribe with little to give. How to become an Animagus.

Sirius had nearly burst with pride when she had managed to change into her leopard-form for the first time when she was fourteen. She'd been a lot faster than the marauders, he'd told her.

Sirius would never let her down.

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* * *

The pain was back. Back with full force and it tried to take her. To cloud her mind forever. It seemed welcoming, the thick fog that threatened to blur her mind. But she knew that the fog wouldn't go away once it was in her mind. And she didn't want to end up like Neville's parents. She wanted to stay sane. But the fog, the sweet oblivion - NO! She couldn't give in. She couldn't. She couldn't think. She distantly heard a scream somewhere. She should get up and help the person who screamed, but she couldn't do anything. She felt something rolling underneath her and tearing at her ankles and wrists. The pain was still there. Why wouldn't it just go away? Make it go away! She'd do anything. Anything…

"Really? Anything luv?"

The pain had stopped. It took Ginny a few moments to notice that the scream was coming from her mouth and there wasn't anything pulling her ankles and wrists but it was her trashing against her chains.

"Would you tell me where my sweet cousin currently is? The ol' doggie needs a little action in his life wouldn't you say, luv?"

"Never!"

"Hm. Pity. You know, for a blood traitor you actually look acceptable. The Boys upstairs could have a lot of fun with you. Wouldn't you like that sweetheart? Someone who's a little more man than that Longbottomy kid?"

"Neville is more man than any of those Death eaters will ever be!"

"Ah, Ah, Ah. Should I let you keep that illusion?"

Ginny glared at Bellatrix and struggled against her chains again. She needed to get free!

"How do I say it? Ah, yes, it's even a rhyme: Yes, No, Crucio!"

And it began again.

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* * *

When Ginny wasn't training or learning, she tried to be a girl. She gossiped with Hannah and Susan, painted her nails with Padma and Parvati, altered her clothes with Hermione's simple glamour charms, read magazines and had a boyfriend. Neville was really kind and grew to be very brave. They broke up when she was sixteen after a two-year long relationship. They were both of the opinion they were better off as friends. She was really happy for Neville who had found love with Hannah Abbot. They had started their real education, their duelling lessons and everything you needed to know in a fight against death eaters, as soon as they were seventeen in order to not get detected by the trace.

Many refugees came to the phoenix headquarters and thankfully, there was enough space. Only the youngest had to either share a room with their parents or another two children. Everything worked out fine. Ginny loved to watch everyone interact in the common-room. The room was inspired by all the four common rooms at Hogwarts. Black leather armchairs on green carpets, comfy red couches in front of fireplaces, cream coloured settees with blue blankets and yellow-black striped hassocks on the floor. It was a very homely atmosphere. Not very surprising, considering that was the only place they all had left. Their houses had most likely been burnt or robbed. Many of them were here because they hadn't been careful enough and authority figures had got to hear about them criticizing something. If that happened, the order either got a tip from one of their spies or the family vanished. That happened often enough and no one liked to talk about it. Those families just got to bed and never woke up. In the morning, their houses were empty, no sign of a family that could have lived there and a 'For Sale'- sign standing in front of it. Nobody knew where the families were taken, but most people thought they were killed.

Even muggles were living here now. Voldemort's reign of terror had reached their world only a few months after the ministry's fall. Muggle-Hunting was a popular sport now. The order had managed to disrupt a few of those events but most of them weren't even noticed.

The headquarters harboured many people now. Sadly, bathrooms were a rarity. They had already expanded them to be for many people at once but the Bathroom-schedule was still always very full. Somehow they managed, but you couldn't just take a long bath after a hard day or something like that.

The kitchen was always busy. Two groups of volunteers cooked meals for everyone three times a day. They rotated so that every two days the group changed. Ginny's mother was chef of one. She chose the recipes, assigned respective tasks and interfered whenever problems came up. The food was very good and tasty but they had to cook for many people with little material so the food had to be duplicated once it was ready. It lost aroma and got a little dry in the process. The original food which usually had left most of its taste was given to the smallest children. No one complained. Everyone was happy to have food at all.

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Ginny heard her own scream die as she slowly came back to the surface. She didn't know how much longer she could manage. She had been under the Cruciatus curse for about fifteen minutes with a few short brakes. She couldn't take much more before she would go insane. Oh, why had she insisted on going out? Why had she wanted to leave the headquarters at all? She was so stupid, assuming she was good enough to not get caught. What had she been thinking?

"Yes, ickle-gin-gin, you are very stupid. Now, would you like to tell me when my favourite cousin usually leaves the house?"

By now, Bellatrix was standing right in front of her. If Ginny had stuck out her tongue, it would have touched her. She could feel Bellatrix' breath against her skin and shuddered with disgust.

"Never." Ginny spat back at her. She coughed. Why was there blood in her mouth? She shouldn't feel dizzy. She should fight! Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe? Ginny looked down. There was a knife in her chest. Why hadn't she noticed? Well, the Cruciatus curse did block out much of her other pain, but she should be feeling it now when the curse was lifted

"What did you do, you filthy-"

Bellatrix covered Ginny's mouth with her perfectly manicured hand.

"Ah, ah ah. We don't want such a language down here. It's a fine establishment, don't you think, luv?"

"What did you do to me?"

"Well, now. Where's the magic word?"

Ginny's jaw clenched. It took all her will to say the following words, but she had to know.

"My apologies. Could you please tell me, what you did to me, mam?"

"That's better, sweetheart. I knew you had the good English manners somewhere in your blood-traitor brain. I put a local numbing spell on your chest. The knife pierced your lungs. You should die soon, but, now we see how merciful I am. I have advised a few men to take care of the blood that will flood your lung. Every half hour they will come, vanish the blood in your lung and give you a blood replenishing potion. Isn't that wonderful, sweetheart?"

Ginny just glared at her.

"No? You don't like it, luv? Hmm. Then I may have to take away the numbing spell… pity."

Bellatrix looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, actually it's not a pity and I would have removed the spell either way, so your opinion doesn't really count. I hope that makes you feel a little better, luv."

Ginny glared at her, finding it harder and harder to breathe with every second.

"Oh, yes I nearly forgot."

Bellatrix took a few steps back and looked thoughtful at her cleavage.

"I think we should let the guys have a treat for keeping you alive, shouldn't we?"

With that, she ripped Ginny's t-shirt in half. Ginny's face burned. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mum. Why hadn't she said goodbye? Why hadn't she given her parents a kiss goodbye? Why had the last conversation she had with her mother been a fight about her clothes? Why not a simple 'okay, mum'? Or a simple 'you look good, Ginny'? Why? Why this?

"Aww, is ickle-gin-gin crying? Does she want her mummy? Or does she want her doggie? Auntie Bella has to go now, so I won't be able to comfort you. Just wait a few minutes. Goyle is the first to come down. He might be able to console you, my new toy. Bye Bye, luv!"

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* * *

Ginny's great aim was to help the senior-order members. They were the ones to fight. A small group of rebels against the Death-eater regime. She wanted to be a part of that. But until she was seventeen, she wasn't able to do so. On the one hand because she was technically her father's property by the rules of the new government and on the other hand because she still had the trace on her. The order had tried many things to get rid of it but it was no use: magical law couldn't be broken. Just like the muggles couldn't break the law of physics. The magical laws were facts. The trace couldn't be covered, hidden, stopped, broken or bypassed. It was just there.

Ginny had to wait. Wait until she was seventeen. Sirius had already promised to take her out. If they got message of an attack somewhere in the UK, they would apparate there to fight. If the day was quiet, he could take her to typical teenager-place to do typical teenager things. She wanted him to take her to a tattoo studio. She had always admired the phoenix around his wrist. She wanted something like that. A phoenix or a Gryffindor-lion. It would be just one day and nobody needed to know about their little trip. Ginny had been anxious to get out of the headquarters. Every day was the same inside there. The headquarters and the shrieking shack where the only two places she had seen in six years. She couldn't wait to breathe a little fresh air!

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* * *

It was so cold. Why did she have to dress like that? Why hadn't she taken a jacket? Okay, it was the middle of august and boiling hot outside but that was beside the point. Ginny shivered. Did these dungeons have to be so cold? Why was the silence in there so suffocating? Why was it silent at all? Shouldn't there be screams of other prisoners? Laughter of the death eater? The sound of rats running around? She couldn't stand silence. She never liked it. She constantly needed to be surrounded by a great amount of family and friends. It was always loud in the headquarters. There were so many people that silence was nearly impossible. Only the library up in the second floor was silent, because of the many silencing charms around it. It was Hermione's favourite place. Ginny despised the library because of it. Silence was unnatural. Silence suffocated joy.

So Ginny did the only thing that came to her mind: Break the silence. She opened her mouth and began to sing. Very quiet at first. The lullaby her mother had always sung to her. She didn't think she would remember it, but right now, every word was in her mind. It was strange really, how much comfort Ginny took from it. She became louder and louder. Savouring the sound of her voice echoing against the dungeon-walls. As if many people were singing. But when she stopped for a moment, the echo died away.

She didn't sing everything right. She was pretty sure that she had the melody wrong and some notes where so wrong they gave her Goosebumps. Ginny was sure she had never heard anything as wonderful as the lullaby.

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* * *

When the great day – the day after her birthday – finally arrived, Ginny felt as excited as she hadn't felt in years. She made extra effort to look good and even applied some black colour around her eyes. Ginny brieflyconsidered asking Hermione for a skirt but that was too much for her liking. Jeans-shorts were better in case she got into a fight.

She sneaked downstairs when everyone else was at lunch. Sirius was already waiting for her, a slight smirk on his face and a bottle of polyjuice potion in his hand. He drowned the potion and changed into a slightly smaller, bald old man who looked just old enough to be her father. Ginny took a second bottle out of his hand and drank, too. When the order members where going out, the usually took the same form so the Muggeles around the place only saw a family leaving. A bald man that was currently Sirius' form, his blonde wife, two sons and a daughter who was currently Ginny's form. Nothing out of the ordinary.

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* * *

Slowly, her singing stopped. It was increasingly painful to breathe and her throat was beginning to feel sore. The silence was back. Silence was not good. Silence was so silent. Ginny sighed. The sound echoed through the dungeon. Unable to sing or speak because of her throat, she began to quote anything in her head that she remembered. Passages of the movie she had watched together with Sirius, lyrics of old songs, the titles of every book she knew, the names of every _daily prophet_ reporter and every couple she knew of in the headquarters. She counted down from thousand in increments of 0.75. She recited the alphabet backwards, forwards and from her favourite to her least favourite letter.

A tear escaped her eye when she tried to remember every Weasley in existence, which was the most difficult thing she had yet tried in this dungeon. The single tear was joined quickly by a second one, a third, a fourth and Ginny didn't bother counting anymore but sobbed instead. She hadn't cried in a long time. Crying was useless and made her feel weak. But now, she couldn't help it. She felt so helpless, useless and unimportant as she lay here, one prisoner under thousands. Her family would never know how she died of if she died. They would never know. But their lives would go on. They would life on and time would heal their wounds. Eventually, they would forget. After one generation, nobody would a Ginny Weasley. She would never have children. She wouldn't leave anything in this world apart from her material belongings. Nothing. Her family wouldn't have anything from her to mourn over, only the knowledge that they would never see her again. And Ginny would never see her family again. She would never hear her mother's annoying nagging, see her father's face light up as he talked about muggle-stuff, read Bill's soothing letters, hear Charlie talk lovingly about his dragons, endeavour Percy's stiff attitude, curse the twins for pranking her or tease Ron about his crush on Hermione. She wouldn't see anyone of them ever again. The last thing she would see in this world was Bellatrix Lestrange. Ginny sniffed. Crap.

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* * *

As soon as Sirius and Ginny were out of sight, the two of them disapparated and popped up in a small village in south England. It didn't have many stores but it had a cinema. After two hours of 'Lost in space', much popcorn and a discussion about Sirius' similarity to Dr. Zachary Smith (Sirius was mortified after she'd pointed it out), they wandered through the small village's beautiful streets. After she told him repeatedly, that he looked really handsome with grey hair Sirius playfully tried to repeatedly suffocate her. They really had fun! Then they apparated again. This town was a little bigger and Sirius' favourite tattoo-studio was not far away. They loaned two bikes and left to find the studio. After an hour biking, three dead ends and a few death-threats towards Sirius, they reached their destination. Getting a tattoo hurt more than she expected but she could cope with it easily. When she was ready, she had a beautiful phoenix around her wrist and a small lion between her shoulder blades. Sadly, the shop was muggle so they didn't move at all. She remembered Sirius discreetly tapping the tattoos with his wand to heal them and then leaving the store while Sirius payed inside. The next and last thing she remembered was the world around her going black.

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* * *

Ginny seriously doubted her own sanity. She had left the safety of the headquarters just to have a little fun? What was she? A stupid little kid? Merlin, and now she was here. In hell. In a dungeon with Bellatrix Lestrange. Well, Lestrange wasn't here anymore but Goyle could come here any moment. And she knew what would happen then. Ginny shivered. Was this her fate? She didn't want to end up as a toy for all the death eaters. A tear escaped her eye. She angrily wiped it into her shoulder. She wouldn't give them that satisfaction. They couldn't break her.

Ginny coughed again. It was cold, every breath hurt like hell and she had no way out. Wonderful. What did her lessons help her now? Nothing! She couldn't get out. She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. She'd never see anything but these walls now. Until her death. She didn't want to die. She had wanted to see Egypt, where Bill was working, Romania and Charlie's dragons, the USA where the twins had opened a joke-shop and Germany, where Percy had found his dream-bureaucracy. She wanted to see the world. India, where the Patils were planning to go, France, where Hermione had sent her parents into hiding, and the Netherlands, where Susan had some distant relatives. She wanted to see the world. Everything. She wanted to be everywhere. Everywhere but here. Really. Even bathing with the alligators in the Everglades national park seemed welcoming. Okay, on second thought, the Everglades didn't sound very appealing either and the idea of going swimming with alligators was rather stupid. She didn't want to go to Florida's swamps. Erm… how about everywhere but in danger? Yes, she wanted to be everywhere but here or in any other kind of danger - especially not here. But also not in danger… Everywhere…

Thinking became harder and harder and slowly, she slipped into unconsciousness.

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"Wake up, blood traitor!"

Ginny groaned. The pain in her chest was even worse now and she could hardly breathe. Goyle junior stood right in front of her, his eyes on her chest.

"Ah, finally. I didn't want you to sleep through the pleasure of getting your lungs free of blood. Now, here we go, _Scourgify!_ "

Ginny bit her lip in order to not cry out loud. This was agony. Not as much as the Cruciatus curse, but nearly as much. Her lung were filled with soap and foam and she couldn't breathe, then, only a second later, it was dried. But everything apart from her lungs felt dry, too. Her throat, mouth, her whole body felt dry. She felt dizzy again. The blood-loss was enormous.

She felt her head being yanked back roughly. Goyle forced something down her throat. It was liquid and tasted a little irony. Instantly, her head cleared again. The Blood-replenishing potion. Ginny took a deep breath of relief. She could breathe properly! She nearly laughed out loud in relief and hysteria. But then she saw Goyle again. Her mind was filled up with pictures of what he would do to her. She gulped. She didn't want any of this. If she could only reach the knife with her hands. She could end her miserable life before her torture started. But before she could even formulate a plan in her mind and before Goyle had even moved an inch, everything went black. But this was a different black from before. She wasn't unconscious, she knew that and for once, the darkness wasn't threatening, it was comforting. A satisfied, content feeling flooded through her body.

She heard Goyle shout and cry out for help, she heard his attempts to turn on light and laughed. Somehow she knew that he couldn't do anything against this. This darkness was more powerful than any of those pitiful death eaters could ever dream to be. This blackness was fate itself, and no one could escape it.

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 **Here I am, again :)**

 **I hope nobody's too disturbed by the the chapter ;) Should I have changed the rating to M? Or am I just a little paranoid?**

 **My Beta pointed out to me that the cinemas and tattoo studios in the world I described aren't very logical.**

 **I think that even if it is probably the best idea for the muggles to leave the country, they don't exactly know what's going on. They know that there's something big and that they can't control it and that it's terrible, but they can't explain it. And even when the situation gets really crappy, Britain still their home., even when there are so many people vanishing, so many 'terrorist attacks' and 'natural disasters'. It's not easy to leave behind your whole life and start a completely new existence somewhere else without any certainities. And you can't very well have every person leave the country. That wouldn't work. There are persons that stay behind, and they still have their every-day life. Maybe overshadowed by fear and a constant death-threat, but they have to carry on, make money, pay for their food, water their rents etc. There is bound to be a cinema and a tattoo studio left somewhere in Britain :)**

 **Thanks to everybody who followed, favourited or wrote review :) It's nice to know my work is appreciated :)**

 **Guest1:**

Here you are :)

 **mwinter1:**

And here is more :)

 **Guest2:**

Thanks for your review, I hope you like the following chapters :)

 **Katzztar:**

Well, first of, Grima Wormtongue is compared to a snake by Gandalf clearly as an association to evil. And, as I intended it: Instincts. When you come across a deadly poisonous snake, you will kill it before it gets the chance to kill you. I didn't refer to them as servants to evil or something. I just said that from Lugnos's, a snake's point of view. As an animal, he doesn't really have enough brains to really see if a human thinks of him as 'evil' or just plain 'dangerous'. Estel didn't just mindless attack Lugnos when he came across him in 'An extraordinairy Birthday', he waited for a sign of aggression from Lugnos before drawing his sword. Evil is associated with Parseltongue at first because of evil people throughout history that had this ability.

P.S.: Even if it was criticism, I'd still like your comments. They make me think more about the things I write, so Thanks :)

 **Victoria:**

Thank you fro your review:)

 **Kairan1979:**

Then you've found the perfect story for you to read :) I agree completely, slash can be quite nice and entertaining at times, but it can also get too much. Especially when it comes out of the blue and you weren't expecting it :)

You're welcome :) Yep, bad luck for Harry, but when did he ever have the best of luck?

 **Acolyte of the Blood moon:**

Thank you very much :) I try to stay as in-character as possible... it's the original series that define a character after all :)

 **ArthurShade:**

Hope you like this chapter just as much as the others :)


	7. Fire - 6

**Hello everyone :)**

 **I hope you enjoy the next chapter and maybe even leave me a small review :)**

 **Just a little self-advertisment: I've written a oneshot about Sirius, if anyone's interested...**

 **Enjoy...**

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Harry was tired. Knackered, to be honest. So why was he walking around in the forest? He had no idea. It had seemed like the best idea when he had started walking, never mind that only seconds before he had wanted nothing more but his bed. He and Estel had just arrived in Mirkwood after their trip to the Shire. It had been a very interesting and somehow fun trip, but now Harry was exhausted. He had nothing but walked and fought since March when they had started, and now it was the middle of August. One would think that Harry would be longing for his wonderful, comfortable, _fluffy_ bed, but apparently his head had other ideas. What in the name of the Valar had possessed him to…

Oh, there was it again. The feeling. The feeling he had to be here. Something that was pulling him into the forest. He didn't know what exactly made him walk in the exact direction he walked, but he didn't have any bad feelings about this. If there was any dark magic or creatures involved, he would have known by now. He had always been able to feel evil, whether it was a sick feeling in his stomach, a tingling in the back of his neck, or a clench of his jaw. No, there was nothing harmful around here.

Something in the back of his head urged Harry to hurry. He had to rush. Why was he in a hurry? It was a question to which he had no answer, but nevertheless Harry found himself walking faster. He knew the path he was taking. It led to the small glade where his dad had found him all those years ago.

There was something tingling in the air. It felt a little bit like magic, but at the same time entirely different. Harry's gaze fell on the floor and he stopped in his tracks.

There was a pair of feet before him. Feet. Actual, human, and very naked feet protruding from behind a trunk. Harry reached carefully for his sword and walked the few steps cautiously around the trees that hid the rest of the body. The legs connected to the feet were very long and a few spots of dirt and something that looked like phlegm. The shortest pair of trousers Harry had ever seen preserved whatever modesty was left of the person, barely covering half of the upper thigh. It was apparently a girl, with very long, fiery red hair. Her shirt was torn and ripped to pieces, mere tatters on her back. Harry was momentarily distracted by the shimmering shades of red and the occasional blonde strand in her hair before approaching her still form.

He almost gasped when he cautiously turned her onto her back.

There was knife in her chest. Her shirt was dirty and bloody, her eyes were closed and her face was as pale as a sheet. Harry immediately checked for a pulse. He felt it, barely there and much too slow, but she was alive. He had to get help. He looked at the knife, calculating. If he tried to pull it out, he could damage important inner organs but if he left it there, the knife would probably do more damage while he carried her. Mind made up, he grabbed the handle and pulled as careful as possible until he had the dagger out of her. The girl was still unconscious. Harry ripped a stripe of cloth out of his shirt and did his best to stop the bleeding.

Done, he lifted her up as careful as he could and started running home. With adrenaline in his veins and a clear path in his mind, he made it home much faster. He crossed the bridge and shouted for help even before the door was fully opened.

 _"_ _Harry! Are you all right? What happened to upset you s…"_

The guard had turned around and caught sight of the woman. He looked up at Harry's face, nodded, and ran off to alert the healers. The other guard helped him lay her on the ground and keeping her stable while they waited.

 _"_ _Who is she?"_

 _"_ _I have no idea. I walked through the forest and she just lay there, bleeding and unconscious."_

 _"_ _Does that mean you've just brought a complete stranger with you?"_

 _"_ _Yes, it does, but look at her, she's dying without help!"_

 _"_ _Now, yes, but_ _about when she wakes up!?"_

 _"_ _You mean that girl has the ability to overcome every elf in Mirkwood on her own when she just barely escaped death?"_

 _"_ _Never underestimate strangers. You know that. She could have an army at her command."_

 _"_ _A woman?"_

 _"_ _Tauriel leads our best troop!"_

 _"_ _Yes, but she is an elf. You know that humans are of the opinion_ _that women can't fight. "_

 _"_ _How do you know she's human?"_.

The argument would have gone on for a while, if they hadn't been interrupted by the healers' arrival. Wordlessly, they put her on a stretcher and hurried off. Harry wanted to go with them to see if he could do anything, but was interrupted when he heard his Dad's voice calling out for him. Harry smiled weakly at him. The adrenaline had mostly left him and he was feeling rather tired again.

 _"_ _Hello, Dad, it's good to see you again."_

Harry hadn't seen him for five months and two weeks. A very long time indeed. His father just smiled and hugged him close. When they released each other after a long moment, they went out into the gardens to find comfortable place to sit and talk. Harry saw the curiosity in his father's eyes – he would want to know everything. They sat down on their favourite bench. It was built around an old willow whose branches hid the bench's occupants from direct view. For a few minutes, none of them talked. They just sat there and enjoyed each other's long missed company for a while. It was Legolas who broke the silence.

 _"_ _I think I should have expected you to bring home random injured humans. You always are in the centre of any trouble that comes up. Did any other extraordinary things happen on your little holiday that I should know about? "_

There was no answer. After a few seconds, Legolas turned his head to look at his son and smiled. Harry's head was tilted to the side, his moth was slightly agape and a soft snoring came from his nose. The last time Harry had fallen asleep sitting, he had been five years old. Legolas shook his head, chuckling lightly. Estel's little training-holiday had apparently been a challenge.

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 _"_ _What?"_

Harry nearly shouted at his grandfather. He was beginning to hate that calm facade Thranduil had chosen to wear on his face, as if everything that had happened couldn't bother him less.

 _"_ _We know nothing about this girl. As soon as she is awake, she will have to leave_ _the Woodland realm."_

 _"_ _But you can't do that! She'll die! Have you forgotten about the spiders? About all the creatures that are creeping out of the dark right now?!"_

 _"_ _No. But this is none of our concern. It is not our duty to aid the mortals whenever they are in need"_

 _"_ _This isn't about the whole human race. This is about one, unarmed, defenceless little girl!"_

 _"_ _She had a knife."_

 _"_ _Yes, sticking in her chest. Wonderful."_

 _"_ _Mind your tongue, grandson."_

 _"_ _I'll talk to you however I want, King Thranduil."_

With satisfaction, Harry noticed his grandfather's eye twitch. He had managed to provoke him. Good. He was going to think about his actions now. Harry was going to get him to agree. That girl was not a threat.

 _"_ _Why are you calling me that?"_

 _"_ _Because my grandfather would try to understand. He would listen to me. Right now, you are not the grandfather I know."_

His grandfather's face grew hard. Harry had apparently hit a sore spot.

 _"_ _You seem to be very… fond of her. You are risking very much even though you haven't even talked to her. Did nobody teach you to rather see the personality than the… exterior assets?"_

Harry looked at his grandfather, gobsmacked. He hadn't thought about that. He had noticed her attractive appearance, but when he'd brought her to Thranduil's halls that hadn't mattered. He would have taken any injured creature there to get help – except the obviously dangerous and hostile ones.

 _"_ _Her looks aren't important."_

 _"_ _What is important, then?"_

 _"_ _That she's injured, defenceless and unarmed!"_

 _"_ _Give me one reason. Give me one good reason why you want her to stay so badly."_

Harry went silent for quite a while. Why did he want her to stay? Was there a reason at all? Did he need a reason?

 _"_ _She… kind of… just feels right. Do you know what I mean? This gut feeling that tells you what's good and what's bad? Right now, it feels good to keep her around. She feels right."_

The King's expression softened and he leaned back in his throne. Harry always used to admire the elegance he possessed, especially when he sat in that throne. But he never sat there when he talked to Harry. He always came down to talk at eye level. This was the first time he talked to Harry as his King, as his superior, as commander.

 _"_ _You will get five minutes. Five minutes to determine if she intends any harm to come towards us. You may talk, probe her mind or whatever method comes to your mind, but you have no more than five minutes."_

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The first thing Ginny remembered when she slowly woke was a lot of white. She lay on something dry, comfortable and warm. She felt a fluffy pillow under her head and snuggled deeper into her blankets. Somehow, in the back of her mind, everything around her felt odd. Usually she was a morning person – always jumping out of bed as soon as the sun rose, but now she didn't want to leave this comfortable bed. It had been long since she'd had a real bed… Wait, why had it been long-? Oh, yes, Lestrange, dungeon, torture…

Why was she lying in a bed then? She could remember Bellatrix leaving and after that point, her memory was a bit hazy. Even with immense effort, Ginny couldn't work out what had happened to give her a comfortable bed. She would have to open her eyes to find out. But then she would have to face the world and people around her. Maybe she was in the Death Eater's infirmary. Did Death Eaters have something like that? She couldn't quite picture someone like Rodolphus Lestrange being fussed over by a medi-witch. He'd most likely Crucio her when she got nearer than a foot.

Knowing that she couldn't pretend to sleep forever, she opened her eyes. The sun was shining through a window somewhere behind her. Her blanket and pillow where white and the walls were made of white-greyish stone. Everything around her looked to be even older than Hogwarts.

 _"_ _You have awoken."_

As fast as she could, she turned her head to face the speaker. She hadn't understood a word of what he'd said. The man who had spoken in the completely unfamiliar, melodious language had long silvery hair and a kind smile on his face. High cheekbones and a slender appearance made him look Veela-like, even though male-Veela didn't exist. He also had an air of wisdom and kindness about him that made him seem the opposite of Veela, who were temperamental and fiery creatures. His skin seemed so pale that it almost had an unearthly glow to it.

"Erm – sorry, what?"

The man smiled. Ginny automatically wondered how yellow her teeth had to look in comparison to that toothpaste-advertisement smile. Then she paused and asked herself since when she had cared about her looks.

"I apologise. I should have known that mankind does not always speak Sindarin. It has been long since I have encountered one raised by humankind. I am Nestrarion. What is your name?"

Ginny tried to sit up before answering. Hot pain shot through her chest as she tried to prop up on her arms. She gasped and tears shot into her eyes.

"You should not move too much. You had a dagger piercing one lung just two weeks ago. You should rest."

Defeated and frustrated at her own inability to sit, she sank back onto her pillow. As she looked up to the healer whose name she had already forgotten, she noticed his ears. They were pointed.

"What are you?"

When she noticed that she probably sounded extremely rude, it was already too late and the words were out of her mouth. She quickly added:

"I don't mean to insult you or anything, but you don't look very human and in our current situation, one can never be cautious enough."

The healer seemed more amused than offended.

"You are in Mirkwood, in King Thranduil's Halls. I am an elf. Before you ask: no, contrary to many rumours, we cannot move the stars."

Ginny raised a single eyebrow.

"Elf? As in house-elf? You don't really look familiar in any aspects."

Now the healer frowned lightly.

"I am not aware of a species called house elf. I am a wood-elf. You have not told me your name, would you be so kind?"

Ginny looked at the man, calculating whether to trust him. Her name was not something to tell people lightly. Everyone would recognize the name 'Weasley'. But somehow, the man seemed so trustworthy that it seemed ridiculous to refuse an answer.

"I'm Ginevra Weasley."

His name had been very old fashioned and long. Her usual nickname 'Ginny' seemed inappropriate to tell him.

"It is nice to meet you, Ginevra Weasley. There are some people who need to know of your awakening. Do not try to wander off."

And with that, he was gone and Ginny was alone. She had no idea where she was, with whom she was and how she had come here. She had no wand, couldn't move without feeling agonising pain and she had apparently been in coma for two weeks. Yes, she was definitely completely useless right now.

'Wonderful,' she thought sarcastically. 'Wherever I am, I need to surrender to whomever and whatever they want me to do - again. Isn't life just wonderful?'

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Harry was sitting in the library when Healer Nestrarion came. He didn't say much.

 _"_ _She's awake."_

Then he went to inform Harry's father and grandfather. Both wanted to listen when he would be talking to the girl. Harry felt somehow excited. The girl had looked to be six- or seventeen. He hadn't had the chance to talk to someone this close to his age for a long a time.

Legolas and Thranduil chose to stay behind, not visible from the infirmary but within hearing range. Harry took a breath to shake off the excitement and gave himself a relaxed expression. Then he went into the room. The girl sat on one of the beds, staring at the wall with a distant expression on her face. She flinched when she heard Harry's footsteps and turned her head towards him, her eyes looking right through him.

She had freckles all over her pale skin, and slightly pink cheeks. Her eyes were a dark hazel and her eyelashes the same red as her hair. Harry smiled his most calming smile.

"Hello. I'm Harry. Who are you?"

The girl flinched again and the distant look in her eyes became slightly panicked before she focussed on him and got noticeably calmer.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said hello. My name is Harry. What's your name?"

The girl looked at him sceptically before answering.

"Why should I tell you? I've never seen you before and in our current political situation, it's not exactly reasonable to share this kind of information with strangers."

"You told Nestrarion."

"Yes. But he healed me and you were going to find out my name anyway."

"You're right about that, Ginevra… I have a request."

She raised one of her eyebrows.

"Which is…?"

"King Thranduil wishes for you to leave as soon as you can walk again. With all the darkness rising in this lands, we cannot guarantee that you will survive on your own. It is my task to look into your mind and see if you have any negative intentions towards the elves or our allies. It won't hurt at all, but it will prove your innocence."

Ginevra paled.

"You're… No, I won't allow you to use Legilimency on me. I like my memories intact, thank you very much!"

"I can't use what on you?"

"Legilimency!"

"What's supposed to be?"

"That's the art of rummaging in someone's memories! What you're about to do!"

Harry looked at her, surprise written all over his face. Ginevra still had a very defensive expression. Her body language told him how sceptical and guarded she was towards him.

"I didn't know it was called that."

"Well, then you either didn't read the book titles or your teacher was rubbish. And before you're going to ask: No again, I won't have anyone in my head!"

"But you are still injured and there is no way you're going to survive even a single day on your own. The spiders are leaving their territory. All kinds of dark, dangerous things are creeping out of the dark!"

"Why should I be afraid of some old spiders? You can scare my brother or little children with them, but what sane person is afraid of a spider?"

Harry stared at her. Was she very insane, very brave, very stupid or all at once?

"You do know what we're talking about? Black, human and elf-eating things, about sixteen feet tall?"

"You mean there are acromantula in this area? Why are you still living here? Why are you still alive?"

"acro-what?"

"Acromantula. Giant spider?"

"That is a stupid name. Who came up with that?"

"How should I know?"

They stared at each other with curiosity. Harry was the first to break the silence.

"Where are you from?"

"London."

"Where?"

"London."

"Never heard of it."

"What? London, Capital of England? The UK? United Kingdom?"

Harry just shook his head. Ginevra seemed shocked.

"Have you ever heard of Europe?"

"No. I'm sorry. Where is it in Middle-earth?"

"Middle… No, I am from Earth. No middle. Just Earth. What is Middle-earth?"

Now it was Harry's turn to look shocked.

"But… you must have heard of Gondor? Rohan? The Misty Mountains? Lórien? Nothing?"

They went back to just staring intently at each other without a word.

"Let me look into your mind just once. For a few seconds only. If I detect no harmful intentions against us, you can stay and we can help you find your way home. You'll have to leave otherwise – unarmed, injured and alone. Please."

He thought he saw panic filling her eyes, but the moment was too short and he could've easily imagined it.

"I promise to be gentle. It won't hurt."

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To say Ginny was panicking would be a bit of an understatement. This one – with short and unruly hair – wanted to use Legilimency on her. Despite everything, Sirius never showed her more than the basics of Occlumency since he hadn't bothered to learn it as a teenager in his rebellious stage. She silently cursed herself for not consulting a book or Hermione about the subject. Now she was in this mess.

Harry looked at her with concern shining through his piercing green eyes. He looked genuine, as if he really didn't want to hurt her or invade her privacy. But Ginny didn't trust strangers. She didn't trust anyone besides Sirius and her blood family. And now, she had to do what she never had to do before. She had to choose under pressure. Sirius had taught her many things but this was something that couldn't be taught. You needed to experience it a few times and your abilities would grow with that.

But what choice did she really have? Either be sent to her certain death – without a wand, into a world where nobody knew Europe – or have somebody roaming through her mind. She sighed internally. As much as she despised having her privacy invaded, she did not want to die. Especially after she had escaped death so narrowly just a few days ago. She still couldn't believe she had been in coma for two weeks. Well, after what Bellatrix had done to her… Ginny shivered despite the warm summer-air.

"Okay.

The boy looked at her, surprised.

"What?"

"I said Okay."

"I know, I've heard you."

"Why'd you ask then?"

"Because."

"That's no answer."

"It is, obviously as I just used it as an answer."

She scowled.

"Git. Come on now. Get over with it."

She was curious to see his wand. If this was such a different culture, the wands surely would look different, wouldn't they? She wondered if she could get one from those people-

"Okay, now, here we go, look me in the eyes, try not to blink and stay calm."

With his piercing green eyes wide, he looked straight into her own. He put his fingers onto her temples and then stopped moving. It was unnerving. He sat there, no twitching, no blinking, no movement at all. Not even a wand in sight. Then she felt something in her head. Gentle. A tugging in her forehead.

She had time for a surprised "Oh" then she was flooded by her own memories.

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Harry had entered Ginevra's mind now. It was unnerving how many different feelings she had locked away to the bottom of her consciousness. There were so many feelings and even more memories behind those. He didn't really want to look. These feelings could only be caused by horrifying experiences. But he had a task – he had to probe into every negative emotion, to see if there was any threat for the elves behind that. 'Reading a mind' worked like this: there were emotions, feelings that worked as some sort of doors. When these emotions or some other kind of perception (like a picture or a certain smell) were triggered, one could view different memories that were connected to this impressions or feelings. The emotions worked like a shelf with drawers. By triggering one of the feelings, you opened one drawer and were able to look at the memories, like neatly folded socks. To keep anyone from seeing your memories, you had to hide your emotions completely so there was no way one particular feeling could be triggered and the memories behind it could be viewed.

Harry shivered as he reached the last emotion, the one that was nearly but not completely hidden. He found himself confronted with one of the most terrifying feelings he had ever seen in a mind. He hadn't been allowed to read many memories as extensive as this one, but he had never seen something like that. He was confronted with an emotion that could surely be found in exactly the same way inside his head if someone was to enter his mind.

It was absolutely terrifying, paralyzing fear mixed with a feeling of utter powerlessness.

He dreaded to look into the memories behind this emotion. But he had a duty. He had to ensure the safety of his family and friends. Biting his lip, Harry triggered the feeling and felt the memories swirl around his head. He could feel himself paling. This girl – no, this woman – was able to fight. He saw her. She had fought in a dungeon, against four elders, while drugged or something as her vision kept getting blurrier. Even so, she still managed to hold them off for about ten minutes before falling unconscious.

Harry was impressed. He had never seen anyone fight like that. She had a stick in her hand, bolts of light shooting from its tip, causing explosions and destruction. In that moment, he could feel power radiating from her like fire. Ginevra was filled with fire – and yet she had felt powerless in her situation. Harry couldn't understand that. She had obviously been captured and still managed to get herself armed! That certainly showed skill and power.

He carefully retreated, trying hard to not damage anything, as minds were always fragile.

He blinked a few times and let go of her head. It was only then that he realized Ginevra was crying. Silently and constantly wiping her eyes, embarrassment evident on her face. Harry was not great with crying females. He had, in fact, no idea at all when it came to that. But thankfully, he did notice the awkward atmosphere caused by their silence. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He should definitely say something sensible. Well, now, what would human females consider as sensitive? The same things as elven females? Probably. It was worth a try. He cleared his throat.

"Erm… I… you – look good when you're fighting."

Oh. No, that hadn't been the words he had wanted to say. Mentally slapping himself, he didn't notice the change in her position at first. Then he realized that her shoulders weren't shaking so much anymore. She lifted her head, and through the tears, there was a smirk playing on her lips.

"I know," she said, and somehow managed to sound smug through the sobs that escaped her. Internally, Harry did a little victory dance – he had managed to break the ice. Wonderful. What was next then? Another try for something sensible?

"You know, that was some good fighting there, and I should know about it, I've been trained to fight since my seventh birthday. How did you fight? I mean, I've seen many different kinds of magic, including mine, but that was different. You used a stick. Can I have a stick, too? I'd like one. I'd probably improve my magic with it. Aaand I'm rambling, aren't I? That's not good. Rambling means I'm nervous, why am I nervous, I shouldn't be ner-"

He was cut off by a not exactly light smack on the arm by Ginevra. She had a smile on her face, which even managed to reach her eyes a tiny bit.

"Yes. You are rambling."

He looked at her with a small pout playing on his lips.

"Ow. That hurt."

She rolled her eyes and the smile turned into a smirk again.

"Of course it did."

"You're being sarcastic, Ginevra, while I am mortally wounded. You should weep the loss of my arm!"

"Ginny."

"What?"

"Ginny. Call me Ginny."

He looked at her slightly stunned.

"Why would I do that?"

She looked at him even more stunned.

"Cause that's what friends do. Call each other by their nicknames."

"Really?"

"Of course! Don't your friends do that, too?"

Harry looked at her, deep in thought for a moment.

"No, I suppose not. Unless you count Estel calling me little one. Though my friends are not what you would define as – ordinary by human standards. "

Ginevr – no, he corrected himself - _Ginny_ looked curious now. It made her eyes shine.

"Why's that?"

"Well. You humans usually don't have friends who are at least two millennia older than you – except for Estel and little Ines, who ar-"

He was cut off by someone clearing his throat somewhere behind him. Harry saw Ginny removing her gaze from his face and looking behind him. The curiosity in her eyes and the smile on her lips instantly vanished from her face and a guarded expression took their place. Harry didn't have to turn around to know whose voice it had been.

"I see you gave me more than five minutes," he said, smiling, turning to look into the ever emotionless face of his Grandfather. He nodded at Harry and then locked eyes with Ginny. Harry could see her gulping.

"I have made a decision based on Harry's reactions to your memories. You may stay as long as necessary."

Ginny seemed to be too relived and stunned to say anything as she bowed her head obediently. Thranduil turned towards Harry.

"I believe she will stay for a while, am I right?"

Harry nodded.

"Then you shall give her a room near our living quarters, not far from yours, as soon as she is able to leave the infirmary. I want you to keep an eye on her. Do not let her become involved into any business we attend and never let her wander off alone."

Thranduil glanced at Ginny sceptically for one last time and then left. Ginny visibly relaxed at Thranduil's absence. She looked thoughtful at the corridor where his grandfather had chosen to go. They both said nothing for a while.

"Was that some kind of authority figure? Is he always that arrogant?"

Harry tried to look reproachfully at her.

"He's the King in whose halls you're currently lying and to whose grandson you're talking."

"Oh. I didn't know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect."

She looked sown at her sheets now, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. She did look genuinely sorry. Harry grinned.

"And yes, he usually is that arrogant."

Harry nearly laughed out loud as her head shot up in record time and her eyes widened.

"Well, at least when he's trying to be intimidating and formidable."

Slowly, a small smile took over her lips. She tilted her head and examined him.

"Help me get away from here."

Harry raised both eyebrows, stunned.

"I just managed to let you stay, why would you want to go when you don't need to?"

She rolled her eyes, her smile getting brighter.

"Not leave as in go away form this place but as in get away from the hospital wing."

He looked at her blankly.

"The what?"

"This room here. The infirmary."

A grin spread over Harry's face. Aha, there was someone who hated infirmaries just as much as himself.

"If you will stay in bed when you're in your room, I'll help you."

She nodded, eager to leave the sterile atmosphere every sickbay had behind. She sat up slowly and even though she barely grimaced, Harry could see how much it hurt. He suddenly doubted his decision to help her. What if her internal wounds tore up again? Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Oi! Didn't you say something about helping?!"

Shoving his doubts aside – it had been her decision after all, thus any damage would be her fault – he helped her stand up. Very soon, it became obvious that walking was a no-go. Ginny had closed her eyes and Harry could see she was holding back tears. Her face was contorted with pain.

Feeling a little guilty, Harry thought of alternatives to walking. He shook his head knowing that they couldn't continue like this – they'd be caught in a minute, even with Harry's secret shortcuts – and picked her up. The first few seconds, she hissed in pain and dug her nails into Harry's shoulder but then she relaxed. He sighed, relieved to be able to go on faster, without the constant danger of being caught. He could hear Ginny mumbling something incomprehensible into his neck.

"What?"

She tilted her head slightly. Harry could see her tired eyes looking up to him.

"I said, you should work on your pick-up-someone-bridal-style abilities."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I doubt I will do that ever again."

When she spoke again, she sounded as if she was trying very hard to not fall asleep. Apparently their little walk had been exhausting for her.

"Why? Already married?"

Harry grinned and shook his head.

"No. But the few relationships I had were nothing but time-devouring."

He could hear her giggle. She sounded a little delirious. Was this exhaustion, her sleepiness or had Nestrarion given her some crazy potion?

"Same here. We could marry each other. Then we wouldn't have anyone pester us to get attached and we wouldn't need to be with some annoying, time-consuming person. We could be best mates, eat chips on the sofa, play Quidditch, listen to matches on the radio and we…"

Suddenly she stopped talking. Harry chuckled. Wow, sleep deprivation made people talk like crazy. He wondered if he ever talked like that when he was tired. He smiled at the faint snores coming from Ginny. He wondered what her reaction would be in the morning, when she realised what she had said. A grin spread over his face. Oh yes, he would tease her mercilessly – he could already see the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

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 **Sooo, here I am again, I hope you liked it.**

 **For anyone who was wondering why Harry is acting not so mature and serious as his upbringing with the elves my suggest, here's why:** Harry has never had the chance to be around people his age, wich is a very important part of growing up and socializing. He only had the chance to really talk to peers when he visited Esgaroth wich didn't happen to often. Now that Ginny is here, he wants her to like him, which is only natural - he literally doesn't have any friends his age. He acts like that because that's how he's seen the people his age interact - carefree and joking. He automatically assumes that that's normal and in order to be accepted by Ginny, he acts just like that. He's not really doing that consciously, it's just an automatic reaction because everyone ants to fit in and be accepted by his peers. One should also consider that he is the son of James Potter, mischief and a little childish sense of Humor flow through his veins.

 **Whew, I just wrote that text for the second time since I accidentally deleted it before.**

 **Now, thanks to everyone who wrote a review, followed or favourited :)**

 **Acolyte of the Blood Moon:**

Yes, it's the worst worst-case scenario I could picture. Always assume the worst! ;)

 **mwinter1:**

I guess I'll take that as a compliment, so, thanks :)

 **ArthurShade:**

Thanks for your comment :)

 **Star Iron:**

Hmm, I'll see how I can fit it into the story, you're right, it would certainly be funny.

 **Joe Lawyer:**

Thanks for pointing it out. I wasn't sure if it was centuries or millennia, so I just went by centuries in order to not exaggerate. The site I went on didn't say anything concrete, so I really didn't know any more.

That question is the same as 'why go and do a behind-the-scenes-tour in a motorcycle factory when there is a truck-factory in town'

Thanks, I hope you'll enjoy the next chapters, too. I did all of that on purpose. I will talk about Harry and his accomplishments with magic in later chapters.

 **Kairan1979:**

Well, you can find out by reading the story ;)

 **Guest:**

Who or what do you mean? I hope this chapter answered your question, because I didn't really understand what you meant, sorry. Thanks for your review anyways :)

 **AutumnLeaves03:**

Yep, somethings bound to go wrong without our 'Boy-who-lived'. Thanks for your support :)


	8. Lots of talking - 7

**Hello humans, other species and extraterrestrial life forms out there :)**

 **I know I'm a little late. Okay, I'm a lot late with this chapter. The last few weeks were busy, so I didn't have time to write.**

 **Greetings to everybody reading this who is from Finland – I had a Finnish exchange partner at my home :)**

 **Enjoy reading, you had to wait long enough already ^^**

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Loud voices woke Ginny in the morning. She couldn't quite make out what was being said, but to be honest, she didn't really care. She opened her eyes. Panic constricted her chest, she couldn't breathe and she began to shiver violently – where was she? After a few panic filled seconds that felt like days to Ginny, she remembered everything and tried to calm herself. She wasn't in those dungeons again. She was safe. There were people who had healed her, who cared enough about her to give her a room and help her. She wasn't with Bellatrix Lestrange again. She wasn't under constant threat of torture.

A dry sob escaped her mouth but she held back tears. She forcefully pushed her thoughts away from Death Eaters. What had happened last night? Ah, yes, Harry had taken her out of the infirmary on her wish. She could feel herself blush at what she had said to him. Merlin, she already knew he was going to tease her just as badly as Fred and George. Damn her sleepiness! The pain in her chest was surprisingly mostly gone. Before she could try sitting up however, the voices stopped and somebody knocked four times against her door.

"Yes?"

The door opened and - wait, what was his name? – well, the healer came in.

"I see you are awake now. Is it really you who is responsible for being out of the infirmary, as Harry claims you to be?"

Before she could answer, the door opened once more, just a crack and said boy peeked into the room.

"I had nothing to do with it! It's all her fault."

He sounded like a child caught stealing cookies – his pout even made him look like one. He also had a whiny quality to his voice that made Ginny desperately want to hit him.

"Well, you carried me here."

The healer turned to face Harry with both his perfectly shaped eyebrows raised.

"Harry? Is that true?"

Harry looked up sheepishly. Merlin, that innocent-sweet-me look was perfection. Even she couldn't get it so flawlessly. Apparently her eyes gave it away with 'Fred and George's mischievous twinkle'. He had to teach her that.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Harry! What were you thinking?"

"Well, she was already standing up, I couldn't just let her walk on her own. She fell asleep after a minute!"

He looked at Harry with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"That is the reason patients usually lie in bed."

"I know that. But she wanted to."

The healer turned to her now, a slightly strained smile on his face. She could see in his eyes though, that he was silently enjoying all this. Where had she ended up? Her mother would've had her skin if she'd helped someone escape the infirmary! She wouldn't be amused in the slightest bit! Merlin, these wood-elves were such strange creatures.

"What have you to say to that matter, Ginevra Weasley?"

Harry piped up: "Yes, Ginny. Tell him you wanted to!"

Ginny took a little more time contemplating than necessary, just to make sure she chose the right words – and because she liked to see Harry squirm under the healer's stern gaze. She needed this picture of him in her mind when he was going to tease her later on. She was sure he hadn't forgotten about her tired-rambling.

"Yes, it was my wish to be brought out of the infirmary. I don't like the sterile atmosphere and the caged feeling. This way, I can look out of the window, see?"

Harry and the healer both simultaneously looked towards her window. They looked very comical doing so, a little bit like the characters in those comic-books Ron liked to read. Her smile vanished. Ron. Would she ever see him again? Any of her family? She gulped heavily. She'd never see Ron and Hermione finally getting their act together. She'd never be there for the twin's next visit, or Charlie's letters or Bill's wedding. Everything would happen without her. She shook her head, as if to shake off those memories.

"…ny! Ginny! Everything alright?"

She managed to force a weak smile on her face. The raven haired and - contrary to the others she had seen - very tan boy had left his position at the door and was standing next to her bed by now.

"Yes, yes. Of course, Harry."

The healer smiled and opened a bag she hadn't noticed before. He took out a few vials and tubes, all containing liquids of different colours.

"While I will tend to Ginevra's wounds, you, Harry, will wait outside. Thank you very much."

The boy in question winked in her direction, hinted a curtsey towards the healer and left the room. The healer had a small smile on his face as he watched the door close.

"It has been a long time since I have seen him that carefree around anybody.

He rummaged in his bag and took out a couple of bandages. He turned towards her, the kind smile still on his face. She wondered if the healer noticed how unfitting Harry's behaviour had seemed.

"Do you see him often, then?" Ginny asked.

He laughed quietly and proceeded to mix a few of the substances he had brought.

"He grew up here. I have been his personal healer ever since he was found. He does tend to get himself injured. He always used to joke and be up to mischief."

Ginny looked at him inquisitive. She decided not to ask why he said 'found him' and instead asked:

"You said he 'used to'. Doesn't he anymore?"

The healer turned towards her, a little bit of greyish paste on a bandage.

"Not as often. He once went to the village and was nearly killed. It changed him."

Her lips curled up in a bitter smile.

"I can imagine."

The healer said nothing. He just changed the bandages around her chest and head and gave her a few nasty tasting potions before tending to the remaining cuts on her arms and legs with a sharp smelling salve.

"I am finished now. Don't go and swap rooms again. Bed-rest and much sleep for at least a week. You will see me tomorrow at noon. Have a wonderful day, Ginevra."

"See you tomorrow."

She smiled slightly as she watched the kind man leave the room. Instead of closing the door, Harry came in with a huge pile of books and rolls of parchment in his hands. Ginny tilted her head as he put them on the desk in her room.

"These are all kinds of maps and books about the world. I want to find your Landun."

Ginny snickered lightly.

"What?"

She smiled at Harry's inquisitive face.

"It's London. Not Landun."

"Yes. That's what I said. Now, Books!"

She playfully rolled her eyes at him. It had been long since she had met someone as worriless as him. Not even Fred and George managed to be like that when they visited. Their eyes were always overshadowed with worry and fear for their family's lives. He dropped a particularly fat tome on her lap. She threw him a mock glare and opened it.

She stared.

There were fine lines, very beautiful and a little bit Arabic looking, but more elegant.

She had no idea how to read this.

"What's that writing?"

Harry looked up from a book himself.

"It's Sindarin."

She looked at him blankly and understanding dawned in his eyes.

"You can't read it, right?"

"No. Not a word."

He seemed to think shortly, then jumped on his feet and rummaged through a few rolls of parchment. After having apparently found the one he wanted, he handed it to her.

"It's written in common tongue. I think it's the only one we have and it's really new, so try not to destroy it."

Careful avoid making even the tiniest rip on the parchment, she unrolled it. It was a map of the world. Her fingers went numb and her throat constricted. A dry sob escaped her mouth.

Harry looked at her, surprised.

"What?"

Ginny shook her head and looked at the map again. This world, wherever she was, was not Earth. There was no Europe, there was no Asia, no Africa, no America, no Australia and no Poles. Nothing that looked even only remotely familiar. Only 'Dark Lands', 'Hither Lands' and 'Aman'. All of the sudden, she felt sick. Was she somehow on a completely different planet? Or just in a time very far away? She couldn't contact anyone from her family as her wand was still with the Death Eaters. The trick with a second wand had only worked once, afterwards she was searched and everything in her pockets was taken from her, even the cinema-tickets. She wished she had something to conjure a Patronus with. She could at least try to reach her parents that way. She looked up and saw Harry studying her.

"You look concerned. Is something the matter?"

She frowned. His carefree attitude sounded so wrong. Ginny couldn't really believe him to be like that when he had grown up around these serious creatures – judging by his ears, he was one of them. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

"You said something about magic. You know Legilimency. Do you have a wand I could use to send my parents a Patronus?"

He looked at her blankly.

"I have a what to let you do what?"

"A wand. You know, a stick that lets you do magic?"

"Oh, you mean like a staff. Or this thing I saw shooting lights in your memories."

She looked at him, hope shining in her eyes.

"Yes, that. Do you have one?"

He shook his head.

"No. But why would you need a wand to do magic? I know Mithrandir needs his staff, but he's one of the Istari."

"I've always used a wand to do magic. I never thought about the reason."

Harry tilted his head to the side. The now thoughtful expression on his face seemed to be much more fitting for him.

"Have you ever tried magic without a wand?"

"Not since my last outburst of accidental magic."

"And what's that?"

"When you are a child and experience a strong emotion like fear or joy, there are uncontrollable and unforeseeable outbursts of magic. Nothing too strong usually, but I've heard of children who accidentally blew up garden fences or playgrounds. According to Mum, the strongest I've ever done was to set a hurricane into my room when she wanted to dress me in a pink skirt and a blouse with ruffles."

Harry stayed silent for a while, the thoughtful look on his face becoming more intense.

"I think I had this once. I let all the books in the library and myself float around. My Dad says I know the exact position of every book ever since – even if they are moved. But I think that's it. After the incident, a family friend taught me how to control my magic. It's all about determination and focus."

Ginny's hopes sank. She wasn't able to do wandless magic. That required years, decades even, a very powerful magical core and a strong mind. She couldn't associate herself with any of the required qualifications. Absently, she tucked an annoying strand of hair behind her ear.

"I think that's what a wand is for. Hermione might have mentioned once or twice that wands are there to concentrate the magic into one point, the tip of the wand, so it would be more powerful."

"Really? I used to have a stone that helped me to concentrate my magic into my hand, but it's returned to the dwarfs already and I doubt they will let us have it once again - they are rather greedy with their possessions."

She could hear the distaste in his voice as he mentioned the dwarfs – there was probably some kind of feud going on. Before Ginny could answer him this time though, the door burst open without knocking.

A woman stood there, as breathtakingly beautiful as the men had been, but with softer features and curves in just the right places. Ginny briefly wondered if she had landed in some kind of model-trainings-camp, then she saw the distressed look on her face. She spoke in the melodious language the healer had used to greet her.

"The guards were attacked, down by the furthest docks! The spiders haven't dared to go such distance from their territory up until now. Two guards were kidnapped. One other was able to run and hide. He is now in the entrance-hall. Legolas asked me to get you, Harry, he wants to fight alongside his son, hurry now!"

Ginny hadn't understood a word of what she had said – apart from Harry's name. It sounded wrong in the melodious language. Like a fly in clear water or a bump in otherwise perfectly smooth metal. The name was foreign to the language, didn't belong. But Ginny did see Harry's expression change. The worriless. look on his face dropped in a second and she could see what he had been hiding behind this mask. The determined and fierce expression of a soldier, a warrior was now controlling the boy's features. Fire seemed to burn in his green eyes and magic gathered around him like flies around the light. She wondered if he knew what effect he had on others, if he could feel what his magic was doing and shivered.

"I'm on my way Maechenebil. Would you please keep her company?"

The woman nodded and gave him a hug, He kissed her forehead and hurried out. Ginny couldn't help but feel like the third wheel. Well, she was in a way. The new one, the unknown and foreign – like the name 'Harry' in this language. The woman looked at Ginny, and Ginny looked back. The silence in the room was louder than the common room back at the headquarters at New Year's Eve.

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Harry ran into his room, where he kept his sword and bow. After securing the sword with his belt and his bow and arrows around his shoulder, he rushed out, through the corridors, over bridges and into the entrance hall. He could see his Dad and five others waiting for him. One of them looked up.

"Greetings, Harry. We still await the arrival of Cystenn and Entrydal."

Harry nodded and went to stand next to his Dad. It took the two others less than thirty seconds to arrive and together the eight of them went outside to begin their hunt, their rescue mission. Harry knew he probably shouldn't enjoy this, but it had been too long since he'd last fought a spider. Since he came back from the northern borders of the shire, he hadn't fought anything or anyone – not even for practise because he needed to be present in the halls in case Ginny awoke. Now as Harry sped quietly through the forest, among friends and family on his way to save the captured guards, he couldn't help but enjoy himself. Grinning, he ran a little faster. The air around him was buzzing with excitement, he could feel it tingling against his skin. Since his seventeenth birthday, he had been able to feel it. The air around him always shimmered and buzzed when he was on his way to a battle. The feeling was comforting, familiar and exciting. He relished it. It made him stronger. It gave him the ability to push himself further when he reached his end. It made him faster, when he was slowing down. It made him sense an attack that was coming from behind his back. The tingling air around him was his weapon.

The further they went, the darker and gloomier it got. The trees didn't let much light through so the sunlight became weakened, resembling more the light of a new moon. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to fight with such little light. He focussed on his magic, pictured the colourful ball he had seen when meditating and twisted it. He let it flow to his eyes. The tingling air around him pulsed once, twice. He saw the forest around him light up. It wasn't visible for anyone else, neither the elves nor any hostile creatures, Harry had only improved his own sight. He could keep the spell up without difficulty for about two hours – more than enough.

The first cobwebs appeared in the trees above them, on the floor and basically everywhere. Sporadically at first, but not tripping over any of them became more of a challenge the further they went. If one only did so much as touch the cobwebs, the spiders would be alerted of their approach. They wanted to stay undiscovered as long as possible. Eloen, the woman with curly black hair in lead of the group suddenly stopped. Before Harry could wonder why, he heard a faint clicking noise in the air. The spider's way of communicating.

A feral grin spread on Harry's lips. They were close.

Eloen signalled them to get their weapons. All eight of them took their bow and an arrow, ready to fire at the faintest movement. He could hear the pattering of feet so quiet, Harry wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't trained to recognise that sound. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his hearing. He could make out four, no, eight – twelve pairs of feet. Three spiders. They came from behind, obviously oblivious of the elves' presence as they would have surrounded the small group otherwise. Spiders attacked from above, not from the ground. Harry opened his eyes again. Just to be sure, he looked upwards and searched the branches for any sign of movement. Nothing. No spiders to be seen. This wasn't an ambush. He heard a branch crack, right behind him, and spun around. A spider, a relatively small one, hovered before him. He knelt down to avoid the arrows that would be shot from the others in the group who were standing behind him and shot an arrow himself. The spider – now with six eyes less – made angry clicking noises and charged at harry. He could see the shower of arrows from behind him distracting the spider a bit and thrust his sword upwards in the last possible moment. A satisfying crack could be heard as the sword broke through the exoskeleton. The spider shrieked loudly in a most un-spidery manner and retreated a few tiny steps before collapsing.

The area had gotten quiet. The only sound Harry heard was his own hard breathing. Any sign of the other two spider was gone. Nobody dared to move, afraid they would miss a sound coming from the huge creatures. They stood there for what seemed like hours. A little voice of reason in his head told him it couldn't have been more than three minutes top, but it felt like much more. Slowly, without needing to communicate verbally – a look was sufficient – they went on. More cautious than ever to not touch the cobwebs - even though the spider's shriek and tumbling surely hadn't gone unnoticed - their steps lighter in order to make less sound and their weapons at ready. They walked about two minutes, tense and concentrated, not daring to drop their guard for only on second, even though the forest was as quiet as could be. The silence was unnerving and the air seemed to thicken with tension. It wasn't fear, no, this group had dealt with spiders often enough, it was one of their most frequent real-life-practices. Their group had worked together ever since Harry was fifteen and deemed good enough to take down a spider, they knew each other's tactics and weak spots as good as their own. They were the third best hunting-groups in Mirkwood-realm. The best one – most kills, least injuries –was led by Tauriel, a tall, auburn haired-woman who was very quick with her bow.

Harry shook his head. He wasn't going to let his thoughts wander. The air of tensed anticipation, grew thicker. The not-knowing what had happened to their enemy, or where the hostiles were located, was unnerving. The charm he had cast on his eyes still worked perfectly, but not even he could see the slightest movement.

It was only a moment, less than a second which they had as warning, barely enough time for Harry to turn around and see eight eyes glistening maliciously at him. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder.

'Why do spiders always attack on my side?!' was his last thought before blackness engulfed him.

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Ginny squirmed in her bed uncomfortably as the awkward silence between her and the woman stretched. The woman didn't seem to notice as she looked out of the window, worry etched on her face, that didn't really match her beautiful features. Ginny knew that look. Her mum wore it on her face when her Dad or any of her brothers were out on a mission. Fred and George were often in the USA, where they ran their joke-shop. They gave the majority of the money to the headquarters. They weren't in danger as often as the others which bugged the two greatly, but someone had to get money. Bill was often roaming through the cities, looking for homeless people who weren't already completely brainwashed by the new government. Charlie helped people leaving the country to go overseas – mostly Romania - and settle there. Percy was their spy in the ministry, but they didn't have much contact - once every three months at most. Ron was training to become a warrior alongside his best friend Neville and went to disturb minor Death Eater raids whenever possible. They were all in danger - and Ginny couldn't be there. She couldn't hold her mum while she cried, she couldn't tell her brothers not to worry about her mother as she knew how to deal with her and she couldn't tell her father not to feel guilty for trying to fight against the Death Eaters.

And just like that, she couldn't hold back her tears anymore.

The woman wordlessly got up and walked over to her. Her eyes not leaving the window, she put an arm around Ginny and let her cry in her shoulder.

Minutes passed by as they sat there, unmoving, Ginny crying silently and the woman she hadn't even spoken a word to, still looking out of the window. For the first time in many years, her tears didn't make her feel weak and pathetic. For the first time in many years, the tears felt cleansing.

Ginny cried for her family, her friends, her lost childhood and the last bit of innocence she had left behind in those dungeons.

She didn't know how much time had passed until she regained her composure. By the time she looked up, the sun shone directly through her window – meaning it was some time around noon. The stranger still held her and softly stroked her arm. Ginny smiled shakily at her and tucked a fiery red strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry for crying all over your dress."

The woman smiled back, but it looked strained and fake. Ginny couldn't blame her. When one of her family members was on a mission she couldn't smile either.

"It is quite alright. I thought you might need a little consolation. You did look torn up, my dear."

The woman's eyes went back to the window.

"Tell me about your home. Tell me about anything. Please. I need a distraction from my terrible thoughts."

Ginny looked at the woman for a long moment, contemplating whether or not it was smart to talk about such things to a stranger. She reminded herself how Harry had seemed to trust her. Harry was the only one she trusted here. Not completely, but more than most people from the headquarters. If he trusted that woman, she could, too. She also felt the strong urge to talk – she had seen so many strange and foreign things here, that she felt the need to tell somebody about her home and to share her perspective.

"My name's Ginevra, everyone calls me Ginny though. It's been like that ever since I can remember. My brothers all have individual nicknames for me though. Except Fred and George. They're twins and both call me the same name to confuse me. I know how to tell them apart. I know that Mum and Dad do, too. I asked them about it once, because Mum keeps calling them the wrong names. They said they love the way their eyes sparkle with happiness and mischief. There's not much happiness left. There's a war going on where I come from. Every little moment of glee is precious. My brothers are the best people in the world and I miss them already. I miss Sirius, too. You see, his best friend was murdered and he was framed for it. Then their orphaned son, his godson vanished. They believe him dead. He's a legend. The godson I mean. Oh, all those myths around Harry Potter, I loved them."

She thought she'd seen the woman twitch and narrow her eyes for a moment, but her face was neutral again before Ginny could decide whether she'd seen right. Ginny didn't pause.

"I used to play pretend that I was going to marry him. He had defeated the most evil wizard in our world for a couple of years, but then the wizard was resurrected. Now he rules the country and it's horrible."

She paused shortly, trying to find new topic to talk about and brushing away a strand of hair that constantly fell into her face.

"Sirius is my best friend, my godfather, my uncle and my trainer all at once. We're not actually related by blood and I'm not officially his goddaughter, but it feels like that. He also sort of takes the role of my father when my real dad goes on long missions. Sirius taught me everything valuable I know about magic and fighting. I am a witch. That means I can do magic. I love magic. It can do such wonderful things, but most people only use it to do evil now. You can see how terrible it is in the wrong hands. What demons it can mobilize. What nightmares it can evoke. It's ironic how something can be as beautiful and horrible at the same time. "

Ginny stopped. Someone had knocked. If Ginny had interpreted right, the woman called them in. Another guy with long hair came in, carrying a tray full of food.

"For you, Maechenebil and for the injured. You are excused from lunch."

"Are there any news yet?"

The woman had a desperate tone in her voice. Ginny didn't need to understand the language in order to understand she had asked about Harry. She wondered whether she was his mother, his friend or his girlfriend. Her jet black hair suggested relative. The elf shook his head and the woman's shoulders slumped a bit. The guy nodded both of them goodbye and was gone the next moment.

Before Ginny could think of something to say, the black haired woman on the chair next to her bed spoke with a relatively heavy accent.

"My name is Maechenebil, and I usually take care of the Gardens and Harry. He often forgets he is not invulnerable, despite extensive training and magic. Sometimes he forgets to eat or to sleep. I generally look after him and care for him where he doesn't do it himself."

A shaky smile appeared on her face as she fell silent. Ginny smiled back at her.

"So you're like his mother?"

She nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"You could express it like that."

Ginny wanted to ask who or where his real mother was. Badly. But she remembered her manners, just in time – she didn't want to sound as insensitive as Ron sometimes did.

"He gave me all those maps. I could read only one of them but nothing at all sounds or looks familiar. I just – I can't bring myself to feel any hope at all. I just want to go home."

Maechenebil softly put her hand on her shoulder. Ginny smiled again, grateful this time. A strand of her fiery hair fell into her face, once again. She looked at it, annoyed.

"Do you have anything I could use to tie up my hair? I love my hair, but sometimes it is just so annoying."

The black-haired beauty nodded and stood up.

"I will be back shortly – I need to get something."

She smiled briefly, reassuringly and was gone. Ginny looked around in the room. It was relatively plain, but still beautiful. It had an air of simple elegance. The walls looked a little bit like ones she had seen in an old gothic church once when she was little. It had an eternal glow to it, that couldn't be copied by any human mason. The furniture was made of a very light wood she didn't recognise. She could hear the birds singing in the garden outside her window and felt very peaceful at once. She closed her eyes, content with listening to all the sounds invading her ears and it wasn't even a full minute until she was sleeping soundly.

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He regained consciousness slowly but steadily. The black fog in his mind cleared bit by bit and he was able to open his eyes. The white ceiling of the infirmary was the first thing he saw. Harry groaned. He had managed to get himself injured. Again. Had they succeeded in rescuing the guards? As far as he could remember, no. And it was his fault. Wonderful. Just brilliant.

"I know what you are thinking, and you are wrong. Nobody blames you and you should not blame yourself either."

Harry tried to turn his head, but found that he couldn't.

"Did we succeed though, Dad?"

"I do not know. I carried you back after the spider's venom temporarily paralyzed you. The others are alone now."

"You should've stayed and helped. I'm not more important than the lives of two others."

Maechenebil's voice was sharp like a blade as she interrupted his Dad before he could start to answer.

"You are to me. And to Prince Legolas I am sure, too. Do not for one second only assume that you are not important. The venom would have killed you without the antidote."

"Yes, but it'll kill the others, too if we're not fast enough."

"The chance of you living was greater that the chance of them living though."

"All of them can be saved. Now, when will I be able to move again?"

"You should be able to in a few hours. Until that, you will stay here."

Harry groaned. He was going to die from boredom. The two adults on both sides of him wouldn't stay with him all the time – they both had things to do. Everybody in the halls had work to – no, not everybody.

"Can you put me in the Girl's room? I'll keep her occupied and she'll keep me occupied. Please, I can't move and she can't get out of bed without breaking down. We'll talk and research. Please. Otherwise I'll annoy the healers to death."

He could almost hear both of them rolling their eyes.

"If you insist, we will let your bed be brought into her room."

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It was about two hours later that Ginny was woke by a knock. She shook her head, a little confused and called them in.

"Harry has been temporarily paralyzed and wanted to ask if he can keep you company while he cannot move."

Ginny grinned.

"Of course, come in!"

This would be fun. She sat up as best as she could and noticed that her hair didn't fall into her face. She touched the back of her head. There was an expertly made French braid. The door opened and two men carried a cot with harry lying on it, under a white blanket. Ginny looked up as Maechenebil stood in the door frame and smiled at her.

"Thank you for braiding my hair. I'm sure it looks absolutely lovely, but sadly I can't see it."

"It was my pleasure, Ginevra. I will make sure to bring a mirror the next time I visit. I must go now though. The garden doesn't pluck the weeds by itself."

She smiled at both of them one last time and closed the door behind her.

Ginny turned her head towards the cot.

"Can you move? At all?"

"My face. But nothing else. Well, my fingertips, but that's not useful."

She couldn't help but snicker.

"Sorry. But at the moment you remind me of a bug that's lying on its back and can't get up without help."

She could hear him snort.

"That's not funny."

The snickers turned into loud laughter.

"Yes, it is."

She could hear he was trying to stop laughing himself, but was failing miserably.

"Okay, okay, it is funny. But what is not at all amusing is that I can't help to rescuing the remaining two guards and that they could be dying right in this moment."

She stopped laughing at once and asked, sober and earnest.

"What did happen? The guard spoke another language and I couldn't understand anything he said."

"The spiders left their territory, they intruded in ours further than ever before. They abducted two guards from the docks at the river. We don't know whether they're still alive."

His voice sounded hollow. Ginny frowned and mustered his forlorn expression.

"You're blaming yourself."

He looked like a child caught stealing cookies.

"Why?"

"Because if I wasn't for my injury, my Dad and I both could have helped rescuing them and we wouldn't have lost them precious time!"

"Did you do everything you could have done?"

"Yes, but –"

"Could you have done anything to prevent being bitten?"

"No, but-"

"Then how would you have wanted to prevent it?"

"I could have –"

"Stopped time? Slowed time down? Been faster? But you couldn't have been. You did everything you could. You can't do more than everything."

Harry stayed silent this time. A frown was on his face, and she could see that he was getting her logic. Ginny knew the attitude she had. Bill was the same. Sirius, too. They both just needed to get the words beaten into their head with no chance of countering with their weak points. They just wanted to persuade themselves of their fault in order to not blame anyone else – you couldn't let them even start persuading.

"I guess you have a point there."

"No. I don't just have a point, I'm absolutely right. It was the spiders' fault for abducting the guards in the first place. You didn't tell them to do that."

She could see him turning his head, just slightly, but still turning to look at her. The frown on his face was still present, as well as the thoughtful expression as their eyes met.

"I… I believe you. I don't know why, because it should be my fault, but, I believe you. I'm really not to blame – it's the spiders. Not me."

He sounded unbelieving, but more because he had let himself be persuaded. Harry was obviously not used to being persuaded, to believe that something was not his fault. That she had been able to get him to believe her, made Ginny feel oddly proud and happy.

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 **I hope you liked it, leave me a review, it would make my day ^^ I know this chapter has been a bit Ginny centred, but she's the one who's in a completely new environment, so her perspective may have been a bit more interesting. The next chapter will bear a little more action as Ginny won't be confined to her bed anymore. :)**

 **Thanks for all the follows, favourites and reviews :)**

 **davycrockett100:**

 **Thanks ^^**

 **mwinter1:**

 **I'm delivering ;)**

 **killermouze:**

 **Thanks :)**

 **I had to give at least a little backstory. I couldn't just plunge you in at the deep end. Thanks agains ^^**

 **I try my best. I have neatly planned out everything – nearly half a spiral bound notepad full of notes.**

 **Esparaza3368:**

 **Don't worry. Ginny is too stubborn to give up easily and she wants to help her family.**

 **Guest:**

 **Thanks for the nice review :)**

 **DanteVirgil09:**

 **Thanks for the review ;) Your questions will be answered soon ^^**

 **Goeno:**

 **I did do that at the beginning of the chapter. I'm sorry if you didn't see that and had no warning. Nobody says you have to read the fanfic ;)**

 **Kairan1979:**

 **You're welcome :) You'll see, she won't be the first one to notice though ^^**

 **beast17:**

 **Not necessarily needing sleep doesn't mean he doesn't do it. What should he have done instead? Just sit there, doing nothing?**


	9. Decisions - 8

**Hello, my fellow living beings**

 **Enjoy the new chapter (yes I know I don't really keep my every-three-weeks-an-update promise, but I still update. I'll have plenty of time to write in the next few weeks as there are going to be summer holidays in Germany and no school means more free time to write ^^) So that's it with the boring stuff, and on to chapter :)**

 **Chapter 8**

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Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he looked at the golden letters on the black wall. All six remaining Weasleys stood next to him, also crying. He didn't even try to justify his behaviour – neither to her family nor to himself. Molly hadn't blamed him though. She had just hugged him, sobbing and trembling, which had made him feel even guiltier.

Ginevra 'Ginny' Molly Weasley

Born August 11th 1981  
Died August 18th 1998

Exactly one week after her birthday, after she had vanished and didn't return, Ginny was counted as dead. The worst thing was, that Sirius didn't even know where she had gone – whether death eaters had abducted her, she had gone away on her own, or if she had been murdered by some lunatic, he had no idea. One second, he stood in the tattoo studio to pay her birthday present with her right behind him, the next second he turned around and she was gone. He hadn't even heard the shop's door open or close.

With one last glance at the Weasleys which only managed to make himself feel guiltier, he turned away from The Black Wall with her name on it. It wasn't just her name that was written there. No, golden names, silver names, bronze names and shining white names were carved and painted there. It was for the families to decide what colour the name was. Most chose gold. Those who had been at Hogwarts however often chose the colour to match the dead person's House. Gold for Gryffindor, Bronze for Ravenclaw, Silver for Slytherin and White for the diamonds in the Hufflepuff hourglass.

As he closed the door, he once again cast a glance at the black wall, where once his family tree had been. So many names. At the very top, were the Potters'. Their golden names were shining under the afternoon sun peeking through the window. If it wasn't for the wall, this room would have had potential – the sun shining in here suggested a nursery or a greenhouse – but the wall stood instead, black, cold and merciless. It was a reminder of the price they paid for fighting.

The door closed with a small 'klick' and Sirius stood in the corridor that was bustling with noise and crowded with people. The solemn atmosphere remained in the room with the wall. At times like this, he wondered why they were fighting at all. It brought nothing but pain and death. He leaned against the door, looking at the people around him. For a short moment, he wished that it had been one of them, instead of Ginny. He shook his head at himself. It shouldn't have been any of them. It should have been Voldemort's name shining at the black wall.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when something bumped into him. He looked down at a small child, five years old at most. The kid looked up, wide eyed, but with a mischievous smile. Sirius could see a woman making her way determinedly towards them. So the little one was escaping his mother's clutches. A little marauder.

"Are you running away?"

The child nodded vigorously.

"Me'n'mummy are playin hide'n'seek. Please, Sir, don tell her I was here!"

Sirius tried to smile, but it wasn't really working yet. So he nodded instead and told the boy solemnly:

"Of course I won't tell her. That's the promise of a fellow mischief maker."

The boy beamed at him and scuffled away with all the secrecy of a running elephant. The woman he assumed was the boy's mother had reached him by now. She pointed in the direction where her son had vanished. Sirius nodded and saw her roll her eyes, smiling. She was out of sight not ten seconds later.

As he stared at the corner of the corridor, a very small smile played on his lips. That, he realized, was what they were fighting for. They were fighting so that children could play hide and seek with their mothers without getting kidnapped. So that mothers could let their children play without having to fear for their lives.

With newfound determination, he made his way downstairs, towards the former kitchen. It was now their 'military base'. He wanted to see where he was needed. He was going to help.

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"And you really don't recognize any of it? Not even remotely?"

Harry could see no hope in Ginny's eyes, which were glued to the map.

"Well, with a lot of imagination, the Hither Lands look a bit like Africa."

Harry began pacing around the room, deep in thought. Ginny still had her eyes transfixed to the map in front of her.

"Are you-"

Ginny interrupted him harshly, her temper flaring.

"Yes I am sure! And what good would it do anyway if there was a country shaped like one back at home?! I still wouldn't have any way of getting home, for Merlin's sake! What would I do? Stand there and wish really hard? There is no way home!"

She sounded frustrated, angry and near tears at the same time. Harry felt sorry for her. He couldn't imagine what it was like to just disappear from home and reappear in a completely different world or century, or wherever else she came from. But she didn't need his pity. It wouldn't get her back home. She needed help. And she was going to get help. Determined, he walked towards the door.

"Excuse me for a minute."

She didn't even look up at him, only made a general sound of acknowledgement and stared at the map as if it had personally insulted her. Harry left the room and made his way down the halls. Others greeted him on his way, asked him to join them in whatever they were doing, but he politely declined, walking even faster. He reached his Grandfather's study faster than he had anticipated. Not even the slightest out of breath, he knocked.

" _Come in."_

Harry quickly entered the room and shut the door behind him. His grandfather was sitting behind his large oak-desk and only looked up when harry stood right in front of it.

" _Harry. What a pleasant surprise. I has been a while since I last saw you. You preferred to eat your meals outside the dining halls. To what do I owe the pleasure?"_

A pleasant smile accompanied his grandfather's words and Harry couldn't help but relax.

" _I have a request."_

Thranduil nodded slowly, an expectant look on his face.

" _I have shown Ginevra all of the maps we own, and she recognizes nothing of it. She says the world she came from looked completely different. Would you know anything that could help her find back home?"_

Harry's grandfather propped his arms up on his elbows and put his fingertips together. A frown ceased his forehead. He stayed silent for quite a while, the only sound in the room was the occasional footsteps passing by on the corridor outside.

" _I believe there are some situations that require more than wise words of an old elf. Curunír or Mithrandir might be a better help in this matter. However, I do not know where the latter currently dwells. The last time I saw him, he said he wanted to visit his old friend Aiwendil or Radagast as he is called by Mankind. It has however been over seven moons since our last encounter."_

Harry's hopes fell a little. He had more faith in Mithrandir, he knew him since he was little and even though Curunír was the head of the White Council, Harry doubted book-knowledge or magic tricks were going to help Ginny.

" _Would you happen to know when Mithrandir plans on visiting us again?"_

A small chuckle escaped his grandfather.

" _The grey Istar is always wandering, never stopping, and ever unpredictable."_

With that he turned his head back to the papers in front of him. Seeing that he was dismissed, Harry left, albeit reluctantly. He made his way towards the gates, intending to find a quiet spot out in the forest. He needed to think.

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A week had passed since the 'spider incident'. They had been able to rescue one of the kidnapped guards. For the other one, all help had been too late. Ginny had spent her time in bed, as instructed, but that didn't mean she had rested: She had tried to learn Sindarin, the elves' language. So far, with very little success. At times like this, she wished she had Hermione's intellect. Smiling softly at the thought of Hermione and her near obsessive behaviour when it got to school and learning, she looked out of her window, waiting impatiently for Nestrarion to arrive. She had asked Harry for the healers name as she had forgotten it very quickly after their first introduction, and even though Harry had looked slightly amused, he merely stated the healer's name without further probing or teasing. After her week of bedrest however, she desperately longed for some action. She wanted to walk again, to go out into that beautiful garden Maechenebil had told her about and to try and use her new rudimentary knowledge of Sindarin to talk to someone else that just Harry and the gardener. A knock sounded loudly through the otherwise silent room.

"Minno!"

This was one of the words she knew already. It meant 'enter'. The word sounded foreign to her mouth and she could hear her own accent. Smiling, Nestrarion came into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I see you have worked to improve your pronunciation."

Ginny nodded eagerly.

"Will I be able to get out of bed today?"

She longed for a real shower again. Her hair felt awfully greasy and she didn't want to wash it in the bowl of water the elves had provided – that would make such a mess. The healer chuckled.

"Yes. Let me just verify that everything has healed correctly."

Satisfied with the answer, Ginny held as still as possible throughout the examination. Thankfully, it took the healer only a bit over ten minutes to check on everything - including her breathing pattern, her heartbeat, and all kinds of other medical things she had no clue about.

"Good. I am finished. You have healed completely."

He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Very curious. When you first came here, I didn't think you would survive. And now you have completely recovered after only twenty days. Very curious."

When Ginny stayed silent, Nestrarion shook his head and went to pick up all of the devices he had used. When he turned to her again, he was smiling and held a few small vials in his hands.

"I trust you know how to apply these salves."

He placed them on her desk and Ginny laughed lightly.

"Yes, I know where, how often, how much, and I even know why. You made sure of that."

He had spent most of his time in her room not actually doing healer-stuff, but instructing her in the correct application of all the potions, salves and balms and then let her do it herself.

"May I stand up now?"

He chuckled.

"Yes, you may, but slowly and with my help. What is it with you young people and impatience?"

Slowly, and with the help of the healer, she left the bed she had been chained to in the last two weeks. Her legs felt a bit wobbly, but otherwise she was fine. A wide smile appeared on her face. The past few weeks had been torture! Finally she was able to do everything by herself again… going to toilet had been enough to scar Ginny for life.

She walked around the room in circles just for the sake of walking, while Nestrarion packed his belongings. As he was about to leave, something came to her mind and she called for him to stop.

"Would you happen to know where I may be able to find a shower?"

He looked at her questioningly.

"A shower? I do not believe it will be raining for the next few days. The sun is shining very brightly and clouds are nowhere to be seen."

Ginny shook her head.

"No, not rain, I would like to shower. To wash myself. With water."

"Is this your people's way of saying that you would like to have a bath?"

Realisation began to dawn in Ginny's mind.

"You don't have showers, do you? It's a device that produces a spray of water so you can wash yourself under it. It's quicker than bathing.

Nestrarion shook his head.

"I do not believe that we have such devices. But I shall show you where you may be able to take a bath."

With a sigh, but keeping in mind that bathing was just as good as showering, even though she wasn't used to it, she followed him. She had to change her habits when situations change and she should definitely be grateful for anything she was granted.

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Harry was waiting. Impatiently. Patience was not his strength, especially when he was hungry and lunch had just started a few minutes ago. He was supposed to show Ginny around when she was done in the bathroom. Now he was already waiting for a while with no sign of her anywhere.

"There you are!"

He hastily turned his head and saw Ginny coming around the corner, a wide smile on her face. He looked her over, slightly sceptical.

"You know that you're wearing men's clothes?"

She shrugged.

"I don't like dresses that much."

It didn't really matter, he decided, whether she wore breeches and a tunic or robes. He noticed, however, that her hair was all wet.

"You took a bath."

"Yes, why?"

"Don't you want to dry your hair? You might get a cold and the last thing we want is for you to get ill again."

She laughed.

"Even though it's relatively cool in this cave, it still is warm and summery, you know? And, well I would dry it, but you know how long that would take? I'm a Weasley, and Weasleys require food. I'm starving and don't have patience to do anything about my hair. I know you are hungry, too. I heard your stomach growl even before I saw you."

"What are we waiting for then, come on, lunch started a few minutes ago."

Without detours, he led her straight to the dining halls. Automatically, he smiled at the familiar sight. He took a glimpse at her face and noted pleased that there was a look of awe on it – actually, he felt a little relief at her reaction, even though that made little sense. The dining hall was indeed a sight to behold, especially when you saw it for the first time, he supposed. The ceiling was carved to look like a canopy of beech leaves. A few of the present elves were playing harps and singing, while laughter and the soft murmur of many conversations rang through the hall. You wouldn't think this was a cave if you didn't know better. The walls where painted so accurately and lively that it could as well be windows to the forest outside.

"This is beautiful." he heard her whisper.

Oddly proud at her praise, he led her towards Maechenebil, signalling his father and grandfather that he would not be sitting with them tonight. Many of the staff – including Maechenebil - ate their lunch at the palace and returned to their houses around the palace for dinner. He had visited Maechenebil and her husband's house many times, it was beautifully built into the treetop of a comparatively young oak. He knew that Maechenebil had wanted to move to a completely different tree, when the ancient beech that held their previous house was destroyed by lightning. He guided Ginny towards the black haired gardener and took a seat himself.

"Hello Ginny, it is nice to see you recovered."

The wide smile that accompanied the redhead's answer was contagious and Harry found himself smirking for no reason at all. He absentmindedly began eating and soon lost himself in thought as the two women talked.

The chances of finding Mithrandir where slim. Very slim. The chances of Mithrandir actually being able to help were even slimmer. Consulting Curunír was out of question for Harry. He didn't like the prideful Istar and doubted that even though he was powerful and knowledgeable, he would be willing to help them. Looking at the bruise on Ginny's face that had yet to fade, he decided to wait until she had recovered completely. Then he'd ask her if she was ready to set forth on a journey into the unknown and search for the grey Istar.

He snapped out of his thoughts, when Ginny poked his cheek. He looked at her, puzzled.

"What was that?"

She grinned.

"Nothing. Maechenebil has been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. I was wondering if you'd notice."

"That was a weird way of getting my attention."

She shrugged but didn't stop grinning.

"I've been adapting some of Luna's tendencies since I met her about a year ago."

Her brown eyes grew sad for a split of a second, but it passed before he got the chance to say anything.

"And I wanted to see if your skin was smooth."

Harry decided not to comment on that.

"Are you done with eating?"

Harry looked at his plate and saw his food was gone. As he wasn't hungry anymore, so he assumed he'd eaten it already.

"I guess so. Why?"

"Can we go over to those blokes?"

She nodded in the direction a group that had gathered to sing together. Harry shrugged.

"If you want to. Are you planning on joining them?"

She shook her head.

"Nah. The only kind songs I know are my godfather's old AC/DC vinyl. And trust me, you don't want to listen to me singing AC/DC."

"I didn't understand any of what you were trying to tell me, except that you don't like singing. Do I need to ask?"

She laughed shortly.

"Nope. Can you sing?"

He half shrugged, half nodded.

"Let's just go over then, shall we?"

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The people here were great singers, Ginny decided, as she sat down next to the group. Even though she only understood the occasional word, she could still make out what the song was about, simply by the emotions in their singing. She turned to look at Harry, who sat there deep in thought with his head bowed.

"Didn't you say you can sing, too?"

She said quietly, so as not to disturb the singing. He nodded, his eyes not leaving the floor.

"Will you join them?"

"Should I?"

Ginny smiled and nodded eagerly. He had said he could sing. She wanted to know how his relatively deep voice would sound. As Harry smiled back and nodded, Ginny couldn't help but notice the small dimples that appeared on his cheek. Then he got up and sat next to one of the singers. He waited until they finished their song and after a short discussion in Sindarin, where she once again only understood one or two words, they began to sing.

There wasn't really any difference in quality from the last time, but the song was a completely different one. It was happy and lively, it told of adventures and danger and treasures. It was one of those songs that simultaneously brought you goosebumps and a smile on your face.

Much too soon for Ginny's liking the song came to an end. The group dissolved and the plates and silverware was collected by some of the elves.

"Shouldn't we help clearing the table? Or cleaning the dishes?"

"Usually not. The staff does that."

Feeling a bit guilty, but at the same time glad she didn't have to do her dishes as it was common back home, she went along with Harry who was waiting for her at the door.

"What do you want to do, now that you're out of bed?"

Go home. But since she couldn't do that, she might as well explore this place a little.

"Well, I haven't been outside in a long time…"

It was more question than an observation, and thankfully, Harry picked up on that.

"The forest is it, then. Good."

They made their way through many beautiful looking hallways, over bridges above an underground river, and passed many statues. Everything looked very old, older even than Hogwarts and even though a bit of the magic was missing, it had an even more mystical atmosphere to it. Ginny felt like she had jumped right into a fairy-tale, only she had yet to find a villain. This world seemed perfect at the moment – except for the lack of showers.

She was really excited to go outside. The last time she had been in a forest was back when her family still lived at the Burrow and she and her mum went to collect mushrooms.

When they reached the impressive, larger than necessary front door, a rush of warm summer air and the scent of trees met her face. She automatically smiled and felt a sense of adventure rush over her. They crossed a bridge that led over a canyon right in front of the entrance. She stopped to look down, and instantly wished she had her broom with her. As she looked down the very deep gorge, she felt the urge to go and touch the water on the ground.

"Are you coming?"

She looked back to Harry and quickly ran after him. He was already standing at the end of the bridge, at the edge of the forest that seemed to grow everywhere around them. The trees reminded her of the orchard they had back at the burrow. She used to climb them – faster than her brothers. A smirk crept onto her face and she stopped Harry, who had begun walking again.

"Bet I'll be on top of that tree faster than you!"

She pointed at a relatively large beech that grew next to her. He raised one eyebrow at her, and half shrugged, half nodded. Ginny's grin grew wider. He didn't know what he had just agreed to.

"One, two, three, Go!"

She raced towards the tree, while Harry calmly walked after her, his hands clasped behind his back with a superior smirk on his face. Ha! She already had a head start – did he want to lose?

Without once losing grip, she was up on top of the tree pretty fast. Ginny wouldn't have thought she'd be so fast after all these years, but apparently she hadn't lost her touch. Searching for Harry, she looked down.

"Looking for something?"

She jumped a little and turned her head so fast she could hear her vertebra crack quietly. Harry was hanging upside down in the tree.

"How is that branch supporting your weight?"

"That's not a branch."

She just looked at him questioningly.

"That's a rope."

"Why would there be a rope in a tree?"

"Because it helps stabilizing the house."

"There is a treehouse up here?"

"Yes."

"Yours?"

"No, a friend of mine lives here."

"Lives?"

"Why, yes, what else would you do in a house?"

Ginny shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Apparently elves lived in treehouses. Okay, she could live with that. Strange but absolutely cool.

She then noticed the corded ladder next to Harry.

"Hey! Did you use that to climb up here?! That's cheating!"

Harry looked extremely smug.

"Merely being resourceful."

Ginny tried to pout and act all upset, but it didn't really work, so she laughed instead.

"Then at least climb down properly now. I'll use your trick this time, so we're even."

He still managed to get down first, even though that was probably due to Ginny pausing to drool over Harry's graceful movements and muscled arms. Honestly, was there anything the lad wasn't good at?

After their little competition, they wandered around silently for a while. Suddenly, Ginny stopped and closed her eyes. She breathed in deeply, a wistful expression on her face.

"I haven't been in a forest for six years."

When she opened her eyes, Harry looked at her intently and with a frown on his forehead.

"Six whole years? That's awful… but how? Were you in prison or something similar?"

She had never told him anything of her home. She had told Maechenebil about it, but not him. Why? She didn't know.

She lost herself in thought. Of how she would sit in front of the headquarters' door at night, when she just woke up from another nightmare. How Sirius had to sneak her out in order to teach her magic. How every day was the same. How she never got to get to know new people as everyone stayed by themselves. How she longed to go out and help, to do anything, but was unable to do magic without causing more harm. And she thought of how she still longed to be back there again, so much it almost hurt, because it was home. After a minute of silence when it looked like Harry had already given up on hoping to receive an answer, she spoke.

"It was a prison. But it's my home."

Harry didn't answer. Instead, he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. The faintest trace of a smile tugged on the corner of her lip and she silently cursed the Weasley-genes as she felt a blush forming on her cheeks. In order to get over this moment of vulnerability, or whatever you would call it, she asked:

"What exactly did you sing about at lunch?"

They started walking again.

"It's about one of the various tales Mithrandir tells when he passes. It's about 13 dwarves and a Hobbit who went out, wanting to reclaim their ancestors' gold from a dragon in the lonely Mountain. They ended up having one of history's bigger battles taking place on their doorstep. The Battle of Five Armies was between Goblins and Wargs against Dwarves, Men and Elves. My father took part in it, as did many of those who live here. Everyone who is a part of our army, actually."

She looked at him, curiously.

"Did you, too, take part then?"

"What? Me? No. I'm not that old, nor am I really an elf."

Ginny nodded thoughtful.

"I supposed you were. With the ears and everything."

"No. I was found in the forest and adopted. I changed my ears by magic."

He sighed and an extremely frustrated expression appeared on his face.

"I did that when I was seven or something and yet I am not able to transform myself into an animal, after six years of practice!"

Ginny smiled.

"Like this?" and then proceeded to shift into her Animagus form. Harry gaped.

"How did you…? I thought you couldn't do magic without your wand?"

She transformed back.

"I can't, but I'm an Animagus, that doesn't require a wand once you have mastered it. Sadly, most people don't have an Animagus form, so they'll never accomplish it."

"I do have such a form, I'm sure of it, but why don't I manage to do it then?"

The frustration made his eyes dull a little.

"I bet you never thought of keeping a mandrake's leaf in your mouth for a month."

He stared at her blankly.

"A what?"

"Thought so."

Somewhere besides her, in the forest, an unusual sound suddenly reached her ears. It sounded like someone was banging against the floor and an odd sort of screaming accompanied it – wait. That was neighing! Ginny's eyes grew wide.

"Horses!"

Harry nodded and made a dismissive hand movement.

"It must be the return of the delegation my grandfather sent to trade with the dwarfs."

Ginny hesitated for a moment.

"Do you have stables, too then?"

"Of course, a little further down there."

He pointed to her right, where she had heard the sounds. She looked up at him pleadingly.

"Can we go see the horses? I've seen them from afar, but never up close."

"Sure. Do you like horses?"

"Yes. My Patronus is a horse."

"What's a Patronus again?"

"That's a spell that takes the form of an animal. It's a guardian consists of happy memories and feelings. It protects you against Dementors and Lethifolds."

"Feelings and memories in corporal form? That's interesting. Do tell me, how does it work exactly?"

"Well, you focus on happy memories, bathe in the happy and content feeling it gives you and say 'expecto patronum'. I don't know more though, sorry."

"What does the spell protect against? I mean, what do these demethornes and Lithefolds do?"

"Lethifolds looks like cloaks and strangle and eat you while you're asleep and Dementors, they feed on happy feelings, happy memories and in extreme cases they kiss you. That's what you call it when they take away your soul."

"This Dementor creature sounds horrible."

"It is."

Ginny paused for a second, then continued.

"Back home, there was a war going on. The other side, the dark side used these creatures. So many people fell and still fall victim to them. It's sad what kind of power-hunger drives people to do such horrible things to other humans. Any genocidal maniacs threatening this world?"

Harry nodded, but didn't seem too keen on talking about it. Knowing a hint when she saw one, Ginny changed topic instantly.

"So, what how many horses do you have?"

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As Harry led the way to the stables, with Ginny happily chattering next to him, he noticed how similar their humour was. Dry, witty and maybe even a little bit dark, but it matched. He knew exactly what to ask or say so she'd be able to give the sarcastic answer she'd been aiming for and vice versa.

He hadn't laughed that much since a long time. Estel may be a very pleasant companion, but they still had to protect and watch the northern borders of the Shire, and there wasn't that much time for talking when you were spying on suspicious looking creatures, occurrences and meetings. And while training, there wasn't much room for sarcastic conversations.

"So, from what I've gathered so far, you're one of those lazy people who don't do anything. I mean, come on, I can tell by just looking at you that you probably never left your room."

Ginny smirked, lightly punched his arm and then acted as though her fist hurt like it was broken.

"Yes, definitely. Couch-potato."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I know. You don't need to mock me for not having a social life. At least I don't have to share my bathroom with more brothers than I can count."

"Well, you might want to get a proper bathroom before you say that."

"I don't need water raining from the ceiling to wash myself."

"Right. You just leave out the washing yourself part completely."

"Oh no, you've uncovered my worst secret! I might just have to run away and live as a social outcast from now on!"

"So, no change then, right?"

"Well, you won't be there, so I'll always count it as an improvement."

"Thanks, I quite enjoy your company myself. The only thing I'd prefer is maybe a brick. You know. More intelligent."

"Why am I putting up with you again?"

"Cause I'm such a wonderful person."

"In comparison to what? A serial killer?"

Ginny started laughing out loud and held up her hand, as if to say halt. When he stopped, she looked at him both confused and expectantly.

"What?"

"You need to high-five me."

He cast her hand a dubious look.

"And why are you holding your hand up like that?"

Instead of saying anything, she took his wrist and lightly smacked his hand palm against hers.

"That's a high five. You need to know that. That's very important."

He couldn't quite see whether that was supposed to be sarcastic or if she was serious.

"Why would I ever do that?"

"Well, you see, when your friend says something you both find good or funny, or generally just very positive, you exchange high-fives. It's a way of saying 'you did a good job' I guess."

They started walking again.

"So, how far is it to the stables?"

"We're nearly there. We just happened to walk in the exact opposite direction before."

After that statement, they had already reached the long shed. The horses were very intelligent. They didn't need to be locked in, they knew it was smarter for them to stay under the elves' protection. They could walk in and out of their shed at will and never wandered too far. As it was a warm and sunny day, most of the horses stood outside, on the small clearing or in the cool shadows of the trees surrounding them. He felt Ginny stop dead in her tracks net to him. He looked down at her face and saw a smile forming on her lips and her eyes lightened up like she had forgotten about the possibility of never seeing her family again. Her happiness was contagious and Harry found himself smiling for no reason.

"Wait here for a second."

Ginny nodded and Harry took off towards the stables. He quickly found Calenroh, a very calm horse and led it towards Ginny.

"This is Calenroh, I have learned how to ride on her."

Awed, Ginny stroked the chestnut mare's soft fur.

"She's beautiful."

"Do you want to ride her?"

"I've never ridden a horse before. Won't she need a saddle and some sort of headgear for that?"

"We usually don't use a saddle or headgear. The horses are very intelligent and perceptive. They don't need such crude devices to know what is needed. I suggest you learn how to ride without anything, as you will certainly need it. Who knows how long you will stay."

Ginny nodded, but said nothing, too absorbed in her task of stroking Calenroh's back. With a sigh Harry went to stand next to the horse's head instead.

" _She has no experience at all. I trust you to keep her safe. By the end of the day, she'll be an expert."_

Her intelligent eyes seemed to say 'I'm not stupid, I knew that myself' and that was enough for Harry. Turning back to Ginny, he said:

"What are you waiting for then, get up and we'll make a good equestrian out of you!"

* * *

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Ginny quite enjoyed horseback riding, and found that it wasn't that different from riding a broom, albeit shakier, but when she went back into her room that day, she came to a conclusion. This place was like a paradise when you liked peace, silence, gardening, singing and horse riding.

But she didn't like these things.

She couldn't allow herself to like any of these things.

She needed to find a way back home to her family.

And with that in mind, she snuck into Harry's room. He was currently with his father, so he wouldn't be there for another few hours. After she found what she'd been looking for, a bag and a knife, she crept back into her own room, trying to suppress the guilt she felt. She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew it was stupid to just go out and try to find answers in a wold she had no clue of. She knew she wouldn't have much of a chance in this strange environment.

But despite the peaceful atmosphere, the nice people around her and the chance to her live without fear of getting attacked at any moment for the first time in years, she felt trapped. She felt like an animal whose cage was facing a window. She knew she was technically free, but she didn't feel like it. She needed to be on her own, fight on her own, and get home on her own.

Maybe she felt that way because she had lost faith in her abilities after she had been careless enough to let herself be captured. Maybe she just needed time alone to cope with all the things she had experienced… and maybe a small part of her knew that she wouldn't survive on her own and maybe, just maybe, that was exactly the reason why that part of her wanted to run away. Because living without her family sounded worse than death to Ginny. There was no other way, she told herself, she had to go and find a way home.

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Harry leaned in the doorway, without being noticed for quite some time and watched Ginny hastily pack the few the clothes she had into his backpack.

"Going somewhere?"

Ginny flinched and stopped moving instantly. Then, she slowly turned towards him, her eyes widened slightly, a hint of panic on her features.

"What are you doing here?"

He smirked.

"I asked first."

She scowled at him.

"Who said I was going to answer?"

Harry didn't move, didn't even blink and just smirked at her. Eventually she broke under his stare.

"Argh. You're insufferable! I'm going away. I can't stay put. I need to find answers! I must find a way home!"

"How?"

"Well, I'll just-"

"Wander around clueless?"

She glared at him.

"No! I would have found my way to the next big city and asked for advice there!"

"Alright. Mind telling me what big city you meant?"

"Esgaroth."

"What direction is that?"

Her answer came fast, reminding him of a cornered animal trying to find an escape.

"East."

"And where is that?"

Silence. Harry smiled.

"And which direction is the exit?"

She just pursed her lips and said nothing. Harry silently made his way over to her bag and swung it over his shoulder.

"Good. When will we be leaving?"

Ginny blinked a few times.

"What?"

"I said-"

She interrupted him.

"I know what you said. But I'll have to decline your offer. I appreciate it, but I can manage on my own."

Harry raised one eyebrow.

"Are you sure of that? You told me yourself that you need that wand to do magic."

She scowled once again and shot him a dark look.

"I know self-defence techniques. I will manage!"

Harry shook his head.

"Believe me on that one, little redhead, you won't even be able to leave the forest."

"It's just a forest!"

"See? That's why you won't be able to get out. Trees have minds on their own, there are giant spiders nearby, and goblins block most of the ways out."

She glared some more.

"So, either you give back my dagger and my bag and stay here, or you can keep both and I'll come with you."

After a particularly vicious glare, she finally gave in.

"Okay! Fine! Come with me! But we need to go quickly. I don't want any delays!"

Harry grinned.

"Understood. You stay here and pack your things, I'll rob the kitchens and get my bag ready. We'll be off tomorrow by sunrise."

* * *

 **So, that's it another chapter done. Number nine is already in progress. I'll be glad to answer any questions you have and will certainly enjoy all kinds of reviews. Thanks to all of you who read my story (I wouldn't have thought there's be anyone who'd like to read it, but there's so many of you!) and thanks to Shallow-Tailed Kite, my amazing beta (If you haven't yet, you should check out 'The Wind Lord') :)**

 **mwinter1:**

 **Going camping together will give them a lot of time to find out such things about each other ^^ Thanks for the review :)**

 **Guest:**

 **Here I am, not very soon, but anyway ^^ thanks for the comment :)**

 **Kairan1979:**

 **It was my pleasure, thanks for the review in return ^^ Have patience, they'll find out soon :)**

 **Wolfawaken:**

 **Thank you very much, though some of the credit goes to my wonderful Beta-reader Swallow-Tailed Kite ^^ Also thanks for the review :)**

 **Spriggan:**

 **Glad to hear you like it :) Thanks for the comment ^^**

* * *

 **P.S.: Have you heard about Munich? It was quite a shock, as my aunt lives near the Shopping Center where it happened. Thankfully she's alright.**


	10. About Tom and Harry - 9

**Hello everyone :)**

 **I'm here again, later than expected, but I'm here. Thanks to both of my beta-readers, Swallow-Tailed Kite and DanteVirgil09 this chapter will be as mistake-free as it can get :D**

 **Enjoy the chapter, I'm happy about any feedback I can get :)**

 **Chapter** **9**

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A sharp knock disrupted the silence of the entrance hall in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, on the night before Halloween. Arthur Weasley, who was on guard duty, wasted no time getting up and to the door. People often came to them at night, under the veil of the darkness. Many of them were injured in some way, so losing any precious seconds was out of question for the family patriarch.

He opened the door just a tad and looked outside. Two hooded figures stood on the threshold. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

He acted just like the father whose sleep had been disturbed, that he portrayed through Polyjuice Potion. A small, pleading voice answered.

"Please, I'm here on my own accord, and I… I didn't know what to do and please, I don't ask to be taken in myself, just take my son. I can't protect him any longer, and I-"

Arthur interrupted her rambling a bit harsher this time. Usually people gave their names first, then took off their hoods to reveal their faces.

"Who are you?"

"Narcissa Malfoy, but please, don't send us away or call for help, we're here in peace! It'll just attract attention."

She lifted her hood a bit and a flash of the signature Malfoy-blonde shone in the moonlight. Her pale skin looked ghostly white under the full moon. Bruises and dried blood marred her features, and she looked miserable and vulnerable like a broken china doll.

"I just want to help my son. Please. I can't protect him any longer. Please. Just, take my son and I'll leave you alone, just my… my only child. Please, just take my son. Please."

She was crying by now and muttering the same words over and over. Arthur looked at her, contemplated her. He'd always prided himself to be a good judge of character, and he could tell that she wasn't wearing a glamour charm of some sorts, her wounds were real. He knew he ought to call for help, Narcissa Malfoy was a known death eater and thus a threat, but something held him back.

"How did you find us?"

"I'm a Black, and I always know what's going on in a Black's House."

"Bellatrix?"

"Knows nothing. Denounced herself from the family when Sirius became head of house. But, please, none of this is important! Please, take him, he… I won't be able to protect him any longer. I ran out of excuses as to why he couldn't take the mark, please just take my baby!"

"Why haven't you betrayed us to _Him_?"

"You were my last hope to get Draco out of this. I just need to protect my son, everything else doesn't matter... I-If it helps you, I can't betray you because I'm not head of the house Black. Please."

Arthur fought with himself. He saw so much of Molly in that woman right now that he just couldn't imagine this to be an act. First and foremost, she was a mother, not a death eater, not a wife, not an aristocrat. A mother. He clenched his fists. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that this wasn't an act. If she had wanted to spy on them and betray them, she could have done so before and she would have asked to be taken into the headquarters, too. She only wanted her son to be safe and as much as it pained him to admit it, he felt for her, he understood her and he would do the same in her position. This thought reminded him of something – of his own lost child. He interrupted her mindless pleading once again.

"Do you know what happened to Ginevra Weasley? Was she taken by your people? Is she…"

He choked on the word 'dead'. He just couldn't say it out loud.

Narcissa looked up, surprised.

"You mean, you don't know what happened to her? I thought you…"

She trailed off, an astonished look on her face.

"What? What is it?"

Arthur said quietly, but also quite urgently.

"She… We all thought you had broken her out of her prison. She just vanished in front of one of the guards. He said she vanished into something darker than a dementor's soul. He died mere seconds after he was found. I don't know what happened to her though. I just know that she's not there anymore."

Arthur stayed quiet. He didn't know what to think, but slowly, a feeling of hope rose in his chest, completely irrational, he knew, but the meaning of this slowly became clear to his senses. His daughter hadn't died at the hand of the Death Eaters. He knew she hadn't been broken when she had managed to take down a Death Eater before she vanished. It was a very strange feeling of relief. Without another word, he opened the door fully.

"Thank you. Thank you so much, I don't know how to…"

"It's okay, that's what we're there for."

He looked at the unmoving figure of what he suspected to be her son.

"What's up with him?"

"I stunned him. He wouldn't leave me or let me go back without him. But it's safer that way. He might be a little violent when he wakes up, but I was sure to remove his wands from him."

She handed over two long, thin, wooden sticks, their tips pointing towards herself. Arthur looked from her hand towards her face. This was the ultimate sign of surrender and defeat in the wizarding world. As he glanced into her eyes, he saw the same defeat in there. He nodded. Now he understood. He took the wands and let the unconscious boy float into the house.

"Thank you."

She had already thrown her hood over her face again and turned away, when Arthur grabbed her arm. She winced and looked back at him. He looked her in the eye – or where he suspected her eyes to be hidden under the material of her cloak – and slightly bowed his head in a gesture of respect. He would have done the same for his children.

"We'll take care of him. My wife just lost a child, she'll make sure not to lose this one."

The once prideful aristocratic woman nodded, thankful, and tears were shining on the small patch of skin showing under her hood. Then she turned away from him, into the night.

Arthur let the Malfoy boy float into the kitchen and slowly went after him. He had never fully realised how many of those on the other side weren't there willingly. Who would have thought high ranking Death Eaters like the Malfoys were not happy with their positions? Maybe there was still hope after all.

He lifted the Boy's hood and was surprised to find his face just as bruised, just as vulnerable looking as his mother's. Arthur stared pensively in the crackling flames in the fireplace. It had been a while since he had seen somebody as completely broken as Narcissa Malfoy. But she had still cared for her son, probably the only thing she still cared for. It wasn't a very Gryffindor thing to leave him behind, but at some point in his life he had seen that courage wasn't always the best thing. Narcissa Malfoy was too broken to be repaired, to ever live a normal life with her son again. It was probably the best for her to return wherever she had come from. A loud crack was heard as one of the logs in the fireplace was broke in two by the flames.

Arthur Weasley was sure Narcissa Malfoy wouldn't live to see tomorrow.

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It didn't take Harry much to convince his father and grandfather of how good the idea to go searching for a way to get Ginny back home was. His Grandfather had been wary of the young woman, even though Harry had delved into her mind, making sure she had no ill intention towards any of the elves, the King additionally gave him a few letters that he was to deliver to the one or another ruler. His father was supportive of his decision to help those in need and promised to get him any help he needed preparing. So, with the first light of dawn the next morning, Harry and Ginny walked out the front-gates, each of them a backpack swung over their shoulders. Light-hearted and with an optimistic smile on their faces, they swiftly made their way towards the stables. Even though Ginny was a mere novice to horse-riding, they would still travel faster by horse than by foot.

The maroon fur of Calenroh looked like blood next to the fair white of Harry's proud mare Êlheleth. Even though Êlheleth was not the smartest of the herd, she was by far the most temperamental and had taken a liking to Harry. Without any riding tack, they made their way through the forest, talking all the way.

"So, you're sure you know where we're going, right?"

Ginny was asking questions about their destination and how they would get there. Harry nodded reassuringly.

"Absolutely. It's not the first time I'm going to Esgaroth."

"Good. As long as we don't somehow end up in Haradwaith or Mordor-"

He interrupted her a bit harshly.

"Do not say the name of the dark lands so lightly. Names have power. Who knows what may be listening to us."

Ginny nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. Is there a… a dark lord or something similar in this part of the world?"

He just shot her an affirming look and said nothing.

"Back home, we had one, too."

Harry pricked up his ears. She hadn't been very talkative about her home. He didn't know anything besides that she had many brothers. At least four. Fred, George, Bill and Ron as far as he knew.

"A dark lord, I mean. My family devoted their lives to bringing him down. We're not very successful though. Probably because most of us have lost hope. Not many people fight anymore. They've given up, lost their reasons to fight. With a bit of hope, a bit of ambition we could manage it. If there was a chance to win against the dark side, many would turn their back on their lord. There aren't nearly as many devoted followers in the system as he would like."

Harry nodded, understanding.

"There are definitely too many egocentric maniacs. Why rule the world? It is so much better to just see and experience it."

"The dark lord at home doesn't really have world domination as priority. First of all, he wants to kill all those who aren't magical and those who have non-magical ancestors. That would probably mean killing us all, but what the heck is logic anyway? He also wants to become immortal. Don't know how he'd try to manage that."

Harry snorted. This dark lord wanted to become immortal? The sound of that rang a bell somewhere in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. His whole family was immortal and from what he had heard, it wasn't really the best fate imaginable. Seeing the world change around you while you remain the same was a terrifying experience. That was one of the reasons why elves lived in such isolation.

Ginny could feel tension growing between them and decided to switch gears.

"So… how long will it approximately take until we get to Esgaroth?"

"About half a day by horse. But Esgaroth won't be the end of our journey, you realize that, don't you? I highly doubt anyone in Esgaroth will be able to help even the slightest bit."

She nodded and remained silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was full of curiosity.

"What does Esgaroth look like? Are there elves like at your home or are there humans, too?"

"You'll see what it looks like soon enough, and Elves don't live in Esgaroth. At least not permanently. You'll see mostly humans, but also a fair amount of dwarfs, who often come down from the lonely mountain to trade gems and precious metal for food. And sometimes, even-"

He was interrupted by a dark growl in the distance. Ginny groaned, annoyed.

"That was thunder. Merlin, this is the most clichéd appearance of a thunderstorm ever! A thunderstorm while getting lost in a dark and creepy forest."

Harry looked a bit less worried.

"We're not going to get lost. I know this forest like the inside of my pocket. And the thunder was fairly far away. We should reach Esgaroth in time before it starts. But we need to hurry up a bit."

He looked at her, calculating. She shifted, feeling slightly uneasy under his piercing green eyes. Why did they suddenly look so familiar?

"You can ride well enough to follow me. Try to keep up."

Ginny nodded and Harry now gazed right into the horse's eye.

" _Calenroh, follow me"_

To her own amazement, Ginny had understood the whole sentence. Her feeling of triumph was however quickly replaced by light panic, as Harry's horse darted off into the woods and Calenroh followed at the same breakneck speed. All she could do now, was concentrate on not falling off her horse, which she thankfully soon discovered the trick to. It was quite like flying, she once again thought, only shakier and without the sharp turns. She took a position similar to one she would use to play Quidditch. She lifted her knees a little, pressed her legs closer to the horse, and lowered her head next to Calenroh's neck.

In her new position, she could easily balance and follow Harry's movement in front of her. The white fur of Êlheleth was easy to spot in the otherwise brown and green forest, and she challenged herself not to lose sight of the horse. Slowly, a wide smile formed on Ginny's lips. She felt the speed, the wind in her hair, the rustling of leaves under and above her, the adrenaline cursing through her veins, and a feeling of freedom overcame her. Forgotten were the worries about her family's wellbeing, forgotten her quest to find a way home, and forgotten that she knew next to nothing of this world.

They weren't taking any paths, as many of them where blocked by the enemy, Harry had told her, and she wondered what kind of enemy it was that he would take such pains to avoid it. He was after all a very accomplished warrior from what she had heard. The small defeat against the spiders had been bad luck, that much was clear to her. If the spider had attacked on any other side, someone else would have fallen victim to it. Nobody had heard it coming, and it had attacked too fast to be warded off. Harry told her he hadn't even had the chance to lift his sword. There were no long lasting effects, of course, except maybe a wounded ego on Harry's side. The fallen elf had already been dead when the spiders took their hostages to their lair. He had died at the docks, fighting off the large animals, so even without the group's brief delay and two men short, they wouldn't have gotten him out alive.

She was snapped out of her musings, when Êlheleth suddenly stopped and Ginny barely held on to Calenroh, who came to stand next to the white mare. Her eyes widened when she saw, why they had stopped. Someone was standing in front of them, blocking their path.

" _Who are you?"_

Harry's voice sounded very intimidating, and for a moment, Ginny was glad that she was on the same side as him. The woman in front of them held a staff made of old wood, was extremely old and balding, with most of her hair hanging in thin strands from her head. She wasn't at all tall to begin with and her hunched back amplified that impression. She somehow reminded Ginny of a crow, with her long black coat and her beak like nose. She gulped when the woman's dark eyes stared directly into hers.

"Don't touch the water."

Her voice even sounded like the caw of crow. The woman smiled, and Ginny shivered slightly. On the right side of her mouth, her teeth were orderly and pearly white, like a toothpaste model's, while on the left side of mouth, her teeth were brownish-black and many had fallen out. It was as creepy as it was disturbing to look at.

"Tell me who you are."

There wasn't even the slightest tremor in Harry's commanding voice. The woman looked away from Ginny and her black eyes found his. Both horses had started to sidle about nervously. Ginny could see Harry's Adams apple bob up and down as he gulped.

" _Don't touch the water."_

" _What are you doing here and who are you?"_

She turned around and without another word, she walked away. As if petrified, neither Harry nor Ginny made a move to stop her. As soon as she was out of sight, Harry cursed quietly, and turned his head towards her.

"Who was she and why wouldn't she answer? Any ideas?"

Ginny shook her head.

"What I wonder is what water she meant?"

"Oh, I'd guess she meant the small pond nearby. I wouldn't touch it anyway though, it's poisoned since some great plague that killed many spiders, a few years ago."

He jumped off his horse and motioned for her to do the same. He went to the place where the woman had stood and bowed down. Not knowing what to do, but not wanting to stand around uselessly, Ginny followed him. He stared at the point where the woman's feet were supposed to have left a trail, but there was nothing. Harry snorted next to her and she heard him muttering quietly to himself.

"Typical… always me… strange…"

He leaned closer to earth, as if that would make footprints appear. His hair fell into his eyes, eliciting an annoyed sound from the back of his throat and he pushed the unruly bangs out of his face. Ginny halted and stared. No. That wasn't possible.

"What's that on your forehead?"

He looked up at her, startled.

"A scar, but that doesn't matter, we need to find out who that was and how she could have left no footprints at all!"

Ginny thought quickly, connecting the dots in her head. Could it be…? No that was impossible. He was dead!

"It does matter, can you tell me: you said you were adopted, right? Do you know if you had a last name?"

He shook his head.

"What does it matter now? Potter, if you really need it. But we need to-"

"Harry Potter? Your name is Harry James Potter?"

His eyes narrowed warily and Ginny just stared at him, unbelieving. This was just impossible, unbelievable, yes, ridiculous even.

"How do you know my middle name?"

"Son of James and Lily Potter? Godson of Sirius Black, first of the second generation-Marauders?"

"How do you know all of that?"

Ginny had to sit down. It really was him. He was supposed to be dead! A bedtime story! A fallen hero! Not this… this so very normal man. He was nothing like the bedtime stories, but everything Sirius had imagined him to be. She looked into his green eyes and wondered how she could have not noticed. His eyes were Lily Potters, she'd seen countless pictures of the woman, and his body, his posture looked exactly like James Potter's on the endless photographs in Sirius' room. How could she have not seen that?

"How do you know all that, Explain!"

A frown marred his forehead now and the lightning-bolt shaped scar was once again covered by his long bangs.

"I… I don't know where to start."

"We've got all night. Start now."

Ginny took a deep breath. How could she explain everything to him? Everything that had happened? Everything about her, no, _their_ world?

"Well, I guess it all starts with a guy who hated those without magic. He called himself-", she lowered her voice to a whisper "Lord Voldemort."

"Wait, I know that name. It's in the letter my parents wrote."

He took an old, battered piece of parchment out of his breast pocket and unfolded it.

"Here: 'We're looking everywhere for a possibility to destroy the Voldemort.' Is that him?"

She flinched at the sound of that name, but said nothing when nothing happened. There was no taboo here. This name meant nothing in this world and she shouldn't be afraid.

"I'd say so. Do they say whether they found a way to kill him?"

"Uhm… They say something about creating horcruxes to stay immortal?"

"Possible. I've never heard about horcruxes, but that doesn't mean they don't exist."

He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it.

"Doesn't matter now, so, the story?"

"Right, so this bloke sets out to kill all those he deems unworthy of learning magic. Your mother was one of those deemed unworthy. Your father and mother fought him. Then your mother became pregnant and shortly afterwards, there was this prophecy. I don't know the exact words, but it was something about a child being born that would kill the dark lord. Oh, and neither can live while the other survives."

Harry looked even more intrigued now.

"I know that sentence, wait, I think I heard that in Lady Galadriel's mirror! My parents where there and an old man in colourful robes with a very long, white beard. Do you know who this could be?"

Ginny responded immediately.

"That was probably Professor Dumbledore. He died when I was eleven."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I didn't really know him. He was headmaster at Hogwarts, the magic school and also leader of a group of rebels against the dark Lord. Your parents were part of that group."

"What was it called?"

"The order of the phoenix, and now stop interrupting the story."

She spent at least half an hour telling him all that had happened back home, except that she made it sound like the Chamber of Secrets had been opened by some other person, not her – She didn't really feel like sharing that particular detail of her past, not after she had successfully hidden it from him when he went into her mind. From the legend of Harry Potter, the boy who lived, to the dark times that now ruled the British Isles, she told him everything. It felt surreal, talking to this man she had known for a few weeks now, and knowing that this was The Harry Potter. It wasn't really surprising that she didn't notice, she supposed, because after all, who would expect to meet a seemingly long-dead and more-legend-than-real person in this strange far away world. This was like… meeting Merlin in Narnia. Something you'd never expect.

Harry had gone very quiet at the end of her story.

"Your world sounds awful."

"My world? That is also your world! Your family is there!"

"No. My family lives here. In the realm of Mirkwood.

Ginny frowned, but decided not to press the subject. She still couldn't quite believe who was sitting in front of her. A strange feeling rose in her chest, something along hope and joy that she couldn't quite place, when she realized all the consequences her discovery would have.

"This is going to be fantastic! Dad always said we'd win the war easily, if we just had someone to bring us hope, to unite us, someone to whom we can look up to! You could be our leader in that war!"

Harry snorted contemptuously.

"Sounds more like a mascot."

"Only if you let them make you a puppet. And you aren't a puppet, right? You are so much more, you could bring us hope and light in a time full of darkness and death. You could be so much greater."

He flinched at her wording.

"But I don't want to be great. I don't want to be anything but just Harry. I don't want to leave my family."

"You wouldn't need to. If we can find a way to my home, we can find a way back here, too."

He stayed silent for a moment.

"We need to go on if we don't want to be caught by the thunderstorm.

As if to emphasize his words, it started to rain and a new thunder was heard, this time much closer to them.

Harry looked up towards the sky that was still obscured by leaves.

"We should be able to make it in time before it arrives fully. But we need to hurry."

And with that, he jumped onto his horse again and Ginny had no choice but to follow and mount Calenroh.

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In the end, they managed to get to Esgaroth in time. Drenched by the rain, but not caught up in lightning and thunder. The storm arrived about ten minutes after them. By that time, the horses where safely placed in a stable and Harry and Ginny had found the inn 'Golden Dragon'. In order to save money Ginny had insisted on renting only one room. Any attempts to persuade her to let him sleep on the floor or on a chair had been crushed by her quite effective arguing-skills.

"I insisted on one room, I'll have to stick out and face the consequences. You shouldn't be punished for my decisions."

Not really feeling up to spending the night on the cold, hard floor, Harry let himself be persuaded. He quickly came to regret that decision however, when he saw how very small that bed was. He shook his head. He'd worry about that later on. Especially as Ginny didn't seem to mind – she had sat down on the small windowsill.

"Do you want to eat something at the inn's bar? I'm not particularly up to going out into the rain when we just got out of it."

She looked torn.

"What time is it?"

Harry looked at the night-like sky and responded after a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the room, "Three o'clock sharp."

She nodded.

"Do you think the storm will be over when we're back up?"

He frowned.

"I don't think so. Why?"

She shrugged and got up.

"I like to watch thunderstorms. They're calming."

He raised an eyebrow, finding the change in response a bit odd "You didn't seem too excited about it when we first heard the thunder."

They made their way downstairs, to the public parlour and went to sit at the bar.

"Well, we were in a forest then, and after the forest we had to ride across very flat grass-land. On horses. Tall horses. I don't exactly fancy being hit by a falling branch or struck by lightning." She explained herself.

Harry snorted. He could see that logic alright.

"Do you happen to know if they have a library around here?"

"Yes they do. No proper big town without a library. But it's somewhere in the centre of the city, so not exactly next doors."

"We'll have time to go there tomorrow."

It sounded more like a question than a statement.

"If you say so. But I doubt the library will have anything that could help you get back home."

"I'm not looking for way to get home."

They were interrupted by the bartender who came to take their orders. As soon as he was gone, Ginny explained.

"I want to research the local flora and fauna. I'm not much of use without a wand, but I was really good at potions back home. You do need a wand to do that, but I'm sure I can manage to send the basic pulse of magic to get the ingredients to react properly with each other, even without a wand. I need to find if there's any similarities between the plants and animals back home and those here. I haven't really found many books on that subject in Mirkwood, at least none that weren't written in Sindarin."

"What do those potions do?"

"Oh, there are any different potions with a variety of effects. Some just cheer you up a little, and there's one that can make you fall asleep so deeply, that they called the potion 'Draught of Living Dead'. You can brew liquid luck, poison that goes completely undetected, a serum that compels you to say only the truth, a potion that makes you look like any other person, and so much more. Those are just the more known ones."

Their food arrived, and the talking ceased for the time being. When they finished eating, they paid for their meal and went back to their room, without any incidents besides one cheerful looking old woman who had asked them if they were on honeymoon. Harry actually felt proud of himself for not blushing and stuttering. The physical aspects of the honeymoon did sound attractive – there was no denying his companion had a great body. Ginny had answered politely, that they were just friends travelling the land for educational purposes. She hadn't seemed bothered by the question at all. He mentally shook his head and told himself to get his mind out of the gutter. They were definitely nothing but friends.

They spent rest of the afternoon in their room, alternately playing cards or (in Ginny's case) just looking out of the window and (in Harry's case) carving simple ornaments into a little piece of wood. The storm didn't cease and still rattled at their window when they came back from the dinner they had downstairs at the inn's bar. As it got late and they both grew tired, the issue of the small bed once again resurfaced in his head. They'd probably both fit, but only when lying on their sides. However, Ginny didn't seem to notice that, as she took her bag and told him not to turn round, as if he did she'd find a way to do magic without her wand and he'd never be able to even think about having children ever again, while she put on a nightdress. He had laughed but did as told. That gleam she'd had in her eyes when she jumped off Calenroh had not yet vanished. It looked like there was fire burning inside her eyes. He'd rather avoid having to face her wrath anytime soon.

A few minutes later they both lay on the bed, trying hard not to touch each other and nearly falling off the bed in the process. The tense atmosphere was broken however, when Ginny started chuckling.

"What's the matter?"

"This is ridiculous."

He wasn't quite sure whether she meant the situation or the position they were in. Either way he wholeheartedly agreed.

"We should find another solution, right?"

"Definitely. This is just too awkward."

He turned his head to look at her and suddenly couldn't help but start laughing, which made her, too, crack up. When they'd both calmed down, Harry sat up.

"I still think the best option would be for me to sleep on the floor."

"And I told you that this isn't an option. If anything, then it'll be me who sleeps on the floor."

"But-"

"Shush. I've got an idea. You'll sleep with your head on the pillow and I'll sleep with my head next to your feet. Perfect!"

Harry highly doubted that this solution was 'perfect' but decided not to say anything, given the enthusiastic look on her face. He rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, trying his hardest to fall asleep.

His efforts must have worked out, as it was completely dark when he was jerked awake sometime later. A bit groggy and disoriented, he grabbed a match and ignited the candle on the nightstand. In the light he could see slightly better, even though everything was still blurry – the draught that corrected his eyesight had worn off. After taking care of that problem by taking a small dose of the liquid, he also saw what had woken him up. Ginny was moving around restlessly and her jerky movements were probably the reason for his early awakening. That wasn't what concerned him though. She was quite obviously having a nightmare. Her face was twisted in sheer torment and she was murmuring. Most of it was incomprehensible, but he was able to understand a few single words.

"No… Tom… Don't… not Bella… let me… Please... I'm… NO… run…"

Words of denial and rejection left her mouth particularly clear. A dull, clammy feeling rose in his chest as he watched her struggle with the pictures her mind conjured. Her nightmares probably weren't even imagined pictures. Judging by the look of terror on her face and what he had heard of her home world, it was probably memories. Sadly, the remembrances were probably worse than imagination. Deciding it was better for both of them if he woke her up – he hadn't forgotten about his nightmares a few years ago – he very gently shook her shoulder. After a few, long moments, she jerked awake with a small cry and sat up, wide eyed. He was silent while Ginny got her heartbeat and breathing under control. As soon as she seemed calmer, he began to speak.

"You had a nightmare."

She shook her head, her expression became guarded.

"It was nothing."

Harry hmm-ed. Ginny coughed.

"Do we… Do we have some water up here?"

He grabbed his bag from the nightstand and took out a flat leather flask. He watched her closely as she drank. A thin sheen of sweat lay on her face and glistened in the light of the candle. A few strands of damp hair stuck to her forehead.

"Are you sure it was nothing?"

She nodded, a slightly haunted look on her face.

"I'm fine."

He lowered his head slightly, and smiled sadly at her hands, which were gripping the flask so tightly, her knuckles were white and her fingernails looked purple.

"Funny, that. I told my father the same when I had nightmares. I definitely wasn't fine back then."

He looked up again, just in time to see Ginny avert her gaze. She looked out of the window now.

"You'll be able to fall asleep again?"

She shrugged, not looking at him.

"I'm absolutely fine. I'll manage."

Harry blew out the candle and lay back down. He knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, Ginny all the more so as him. Instead, he pondered on a way to get her to talk about the dreams. It had definitely helped him, even though he had refused to speak about the images his mind showed him for many years. Speaking had certainly lifted a small weight off his shoulders.

The mattress dipped slightly as Ginny stood up. He could see her small silhouette against the window. He heard her take a deep albeit shaky breath. He supposed, he should let her know that talking to him was always an option for her.

"You can tell me-"

"Can I tell you-"

They had started and stopped talking simultaneously. It somehow broke the tension that hung heavily in the room. He heard Ginny chuckle quietly and allowed himself a grin.

"You go first."

"I wanted to tell you that you can tell me, if you want. I… have experienced quite horrible nightmares myself and talking really helped me."

It was quiet for a few moments and even though it was dark, he could tell she was watching him intently.

"You know, I wanted to ask you if I could tell you about the nightmares. I have some experience with them, too, you know?"

She sounded extremely bitter.

"Talking always helped me. I used to talk to my godfather about them. Actually, when I think about it, he's more your godfather."

She sighed heavily. As she spoke again, in a small voice, she sounded unusually vulnerable.

"They were supposed to be gone."

She drew another shaky breath.

"They stopped a few years ago. Not completely, mind you, but now I've had them every night for the last few weeks. I think being imprisoned triggered some bad memories and the completely new environment of Mirkwood afterwards encouraged the effect. The dream is always the same. I'm elven again. I'm a prisoner in my own body. And I have to watch. I have to watch as my body does unspeakable things, under Tom's control. I'm inside my body, but I don't have control over it. I watch as my hands kill my family, my friends, everyone I know. I see the betrayed look in their eyes, the hatred, and I know it's directed at me. But I can't do anything. And I feel Tom's satisfaction and glee at their deaths in my own body. I feel disgusted and repulsed at myself for feeling joy in the face of death, even though those aren't my feelings. I still feel them and I hate myself for it. And I can't do anything."

He was sure he heard a very quiet, dry sob. He wondered who Tom was supposed to be, but he didn't dare interrupt her to ask.

"You know, there's a creature at home, which turns into your biggest fear when you face it. I… I always wanted to know what I saw. I figured it had to be something spectacular. Maybe the diary, maybe Tom – that's what I call Voldemort - maybe the basilisk or even myself as I'm being possessed. But it's none of these. No, when I finally got the chance to see one of these creatures, it turned into a cage. A bloody cage. What kind of fear is that supposed to be? How is a cage scary? The twins taught me to pick locks before I could even write, and I can easily unlock it with my wand. There's nothing scary about a cage. I think the boggart may have been ill and didn't work properly."

Harry didn't think so. He could see very clearly what she was afraid of, and he was quite honestly, impressed by it. But he let her ramble on. It wouldn't help if he interrupted her now.

"I just… Without magic, I feel so useless… I hate feeling useless! Because I'm able to do things on my own, I'm not some damsel in distress or a silly little girl as I was back then. I want to be able to help, but everything I've learned is useless here. Who knows if the weather is the same here as back home? Who knows whether the same laws of physics apply here? Who knows if any of what I've learned to do is possible in this world? I sincerely hope I can get something out of potions. Maybe even teach you some theory about magic, as I am not able to practice it. But I'm not really great about theory. Hermione is the one who knows the textbooks by heart. I'm more the type of learner who has to understand a topic. As soon as I get it, I'm usually able to do it, without learning a great deal about theory and how it works and all that. I'll see what I know. What do you think? Want to learn a bit about your magic?"

Harry nodded as he answered, even though he knew she couldn't see him.

"I'll gladly take up on that offer. I know how to do magic, but I don't know the limits. Never pushed the limits, never experimented. If you told me what you _can_ do, I might be able to do it too."

"Good."

They both stayed silent for a few moments. Then, Ginny spoke again.

"It's kind of silly, I know, but guess what? I'm afraid to go home. I really want to see my family again, see them all alive and well, but what if they aren't alive and well? What if Tom and his Death Eaters found the headquarters? What if someone died on one of the missions? What if anyone of those who are spies get caught? I'm scared, and I don't like it."

He heard something that sounded like a fist hitting a wall.

"I feel so weak."

"Why, because you're scared?"

"Of course!"

"That's no weakness. It shows that you care, and caring is never a bad thing. It means that you're alive, that your soul is healthy, and that all the things you went through didn't do any permanent damage. You have every reason to be bitter, heartless or listless. You have every reason to stop. Stop living, stop caring, and stop being everything that makes us alive. But you carry on. Carry on through all the crap life puts you through. That, my dear Ginny, is pure strength. That is power. And I sincerely admire you for it."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Thank you."

Somehow those two words said everything that needed to be said, and somehow, their friendship grew a little bit closer with that conversation, in the middle of the night, in a cramped hotel-room, with the sounds of rain and thunder surrounding them.

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 **Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it ^^ the next chapter is already more than halfway done, expect it relatively soon. I'd love to hear from you in the Reviews. ^^**

 **Thanks to everybody who left a comment, and to everybody who followed of favourited the story :)**

 **DanteVirgil09:** Thank you for the nice review :) Well, I can't have my main characters suffer…yet. :D Well, you'll just have to wait and see… ^^

 **Aalens:** Thank you so much for the two reviews, they've been very helpful. Also, thank you for the tip about 'anyway', I try to keep it British-English, but all those lists on American and British differences don't cover everything. So, thanks, you really helped, I hope you'll enjoy the future chapters, too :)

 **Aquafin:** Thanks for the comment. ^^ Later than planned, but it's there, hope you like it :)

 **Kiliel Shipper:** Sorry for having to keep you waiting, but I had to wait for Beta-readings, so not my fault ;) But I'm happy that you like the story ^^

 **Mishi Gohiku:** Thank you very much, that question you've got, it'll be answered in the story, so no spoilers ;)

 **draco7347:** looks like you don't need to wait long then :) Thank you for the nice comment ^^


	11. Familiar people, familiar actions - 10

Everything he deserves

Hi Everybody :)

Hope you'll like the chapter ^^ Do any of you know whether they have Chocolate in Middle Earth? I have been looking through both books and the internet and have yet to come up with anything, so... Is there Chocolate?

 **Warning:** **this chapter contains violence and bloodshed**

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When Harry woke up the next morning, it was already late, nearly noon in fact, but Ginny was still asleep. He went down to the public parlour to get his companion and himself a light breakfast. Longing for the silence back in the room, he quickly hurried back and he sat down on the small table beside the window. Reaching for his back, he took out the map he had brought with him, along with the sealed scrolls of parchment he had been given by his grandfather.

Three of the letters were to be delivered to Rivendell, a few more to Mithlond, one to Iarwain Ben-adar in the old forest and several to Edoras. Harry sighed. They had pretty much gone into the exact opposite direction of where they had to go. He looked through the letters again. Oh, he had overlooked one – to Edhellond? Wonderful, then they'd literary have to travel to every last corner of middle earth. This was going to take at least a year. Harry sighed again and rubbed his temples. Was it pessimistic of him to expect Ginny to abandon him? He would definitely understand if she said that one year was too much time she would rather spend researching ways to get home than to deliver letters to strange places. She would probably be faster without him. He sighed, thinking of how he was going to be away from his family longer than ever before, and as silly as it may seem, he already missed them. This was going to be one long year. At least the company he had was enjoyable and had a good sense of humour. Said source of humour was starting to wake up.

"Rise and shine, you have work to do."

Without turning to look at her, he kept studying the map, trying to decide which route would be the stupidest.

"What time is it?"

"Around noon. I have got some breakfast for you."

She got up and sat down on the windowsill.

"Thanks."

Taking a bite from the bread he'd purchased, she watched the people passing the street under their window. Silence reigned for a while, only to be broken when Ginny was done with eating and used the same threat of disembowelment as the last evening, before she dressed. Harry didn't really listen, still concentrating on the map, and what route to take. Many of the paths were dangerous, others even more so, and some of the paths were practically suicide. At least when he had someone as inexperienced as Ginny with him – not that it was her fault. He sighed again, rubbing his temples.

Finally, he decided that he should go and see if the local rumour mill held any good information on where it was particularly unsafe to go at the moment. While the gossip was mostly rubbish, sometimes the most useful things were to be heard: had there been any disappearances, strange murders or places no one came back from? That were the places to avoid, probably infested with hostiles. He would just have to find a way to access the rumour mill. Harry nearly smiled. It was time to see old friends again.

"You look frustrated. Anything I should know about?"

He looked up at her, the frown still on his face.

"Do you have any strategic talent? I cannot decide which route to take."

"Tell me what danger lurks where and I'll do what I've learned to do: my best."

Ginny listened attentively to everything he had to say, and in the end she looked just as indecisive as he felt.

"That's tough."

Harry just nodded, turning his eyes back to the map. He had marked the places they needed to go with black ink.

"I think we should go to Edhellond first. It is hard to miss when we can just stay on the edge of the forest all the time, and then go down that river."

Ginny nodded.

"That would make sense. It'll be a short way to Edoras from there, and that road there goes just where we need it."

She said, gesturing at the map. Harry nodded affirmatively and, before he had the chance to overthink the whole route, rolled up the parchment and put the letters back into his bag. It had grown late and the smell of lunch was invading their nostrils from all sides.

"We shall get to the rest of our way when it is time. Do you want to head down to the market? You said you wanted to go see the library?"

"Yes, I'd like that. You know, my brother Ron was always the best when it came to tactical questions. He would've found the best possible route in no time."

Her face grew pensive for a moment before she shook her head energetically.

"Let's go."

She jumped up a bit more enthusiastically than needed, and her smile was a bit too wide to be real, but both of them ignored the elephant in the room as they made their way downstairs – there had been enough emotional talk for both of them the night before.

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The first thing Ginny noticed when she got out the front door, was the smell. Not exactly unpleasant but nothing good either. It smelled like a typical, if very unwashed crowd. The noise was the second thing that was pushed to the forefront of her mind. People shouting, chattering and a few animal-screams mixed in between. It was loud. A noisy, smelly chaos. Grinning, she pushed into the crowd and was immediately surrounded by people. Closing her eyes for a second, she imagined herself to be in the common room back at the headquarters, surrounded by her family and friends, but the dream faded as soon as she opened her eyes.

She turned around, and spotted Harry standing awkwardly on the side, trying his best to not get close to the mass of people. Snickering mentally, she made her way towards him. He looked lost like a penguin in the Sahara. He seemed nowhere as comfortable as she felt. That was probably the result of their different upbringings: She had learned that safety lay in numbers, but with what she had seen from Harry's home, he had most likely learned to fight on his own, without anyone hindering his movements. Feeling like nothing could dampen her extraordinary mood, she smiled as she approached him. He worriedly watched all the people around, and it was visible that he had to brace himself to go and dive into the crowds.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure."

His jaw clenched and a determined look hardened his usually soft green eyes.

"Why should I be anything but perfectly fine?"

He answered through gritted teeth, then set off, at a speed that had Ginny half-running in an effort to not lose sight of him. The smell of food, especially fish in all varieties invaded her nostrils and made her stomach grumble with hunger, reminding her of the reason they had left their rom in the first place. Sadly, it was so loud, that she wouldn't be able to get Harry's attention by shouting. He was also too far away for her to just grab his arm and stop his run.

Just as she nevertheless contemplated shouting his name as loudly as possible and as long as it took him to hear her, he stopped abruptly, which had the people behind him to crashing into him, making them grumble and bicker at the sudden stop. Glad to be able to stop running this marathon, she came to stand next to him. He had his eyes transfixed on a small circle where no people stood. Instead, there were a few couples dancing to music. She raised an eyebrow. Had he seen something of importance?

"D'yer have ter stand in th'middle o' the damn way?"

An angry voice shook both of them out of their musings, leading Ginny to take initiative by pulling Harry off between some selling cabins. He had yet to take his eyes off the dancers, although he seemed to be scanning the crowd watching the former by now.

"Want some food?" Harry asked, but didn't wait for her to answer, he just barged right into the crowds again. He didn't even stop to see whether she was following, or if she'd even heard him. Annoyed, exasperated, and trying her hardest to be understanding - he only acted like this because he didn't like crowds - she dutifully followed him. He aimed his way towards what looked like a very early version of a bakery and she hurried after him. Here, at the marketplace, the town didn't seem to be built on water anymore. When they had first entered the city, the streets had consisted of wooden footbridges with water underneath and to the sides. Now she was standing on a cobbled town square with smelly, damp hay lying on the ground. The nearby water had made her a bit uneasy – she'd never been a good swimmer and was glad to be back on dry land.

When Ginny caught up with Harry, he was already standing in the queue, subtly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, while trying to get a glimpse at the actual booth. Deciding that he wasn't going to pay attention to her if she tried to talk to him, she instead watched the crowd around her. It was fascinating how much these people looked as if they were from the middle-ages. Her brothers had always told her, how the Muggleborns at school found that traditional wizards' clothing looked as though it came straight from those dark ages, but seeing how the people around in this strange world dressed, she had to shake her head at that assumption. She never had to wear dresses that looked like they were made of old bed-sheets, or wear some silly-looking bonnet. She wore a good old cloak, some of them with a skirt underneath, and that was it. The people here looked as if they were trying to put on as many layers as possible, even though it was a comparatively warm September. The only thing that Ginny found similar to her own clothes back at home, was how often they appeared to have been patched up. She smiled fondly at the memory of her mother teaching her how to mend clothes. She'd hated the work at that time. She was the only one to learn it, just because she was a girl. Oh, how she wished to be with her mother again. She'd even learn how to knit if must be. She shook her head fondly. How could she have done anything but love those hours when it was only her and her mother? She'd been such a naïve, spoiled child to see that as a burden. Suddenly, she was ripped out of her thoughts by Harry's voice sounding next to her ear.

"Bardol! Good to see you, how long has it been?"

"Harry? Haven't seen ya in ages! How are ya?"

Harry apparently knew the bakery-bloke.

"I am marvellous. Just a tad hungry. Do you still sell that currant bread?"

"What do ya think, lad? How many do ya want?"

"One for me and one for the lady accompanying me."

Ginny smiled, slightly perplexed, at the sudden attention she was getting, but waved regardless. Harry continued to chat.

"Say, Bardol, is Jade still working for you?

"Sure thing, Harry, lad. She's just on her break, she'll be back in a few. She's been wondering if she'd ever see ya again!"

Harry nodded and payed the bakery-man, before leading her to a corner of the marketplace, out of most people's way.

"Here you go. I hope you like this. It is my favourite food. Tastes gorgeous if you ask me. You should definitely try it."

Smiling at his innocent excitement, she took a bite, and found that the sweet, soft bun was better that she expected. She wasn't that much a fan of raisins, but she hadn't had something so sweet in a long time, and found them delicious. They munched on their lunch in silence and watched the people around them. The more she observed them, the more she found that they all looked like they came straight from the Middle Ages, complete with bad hygiene and what probably the illnesses.

"Do you want to dance?"

She looked at Harry, surprised. The question had come out of nowhere. He was just eating the last piece of his bread and looking at her inquisitively.

"You are done with eating. We have time. I am sure we would enjoy ourselves."

Ginny eyed the dancers he had been watching while eating. Without really thinking, she shook her head. She had never learned to dance – an embarrassing fact, seeing that everyone she knew did in fact enjoy that particular activity. She had skived those classes to sneak out to the shrieking shack with Sirius – magic didn't practice itself after all. However, she was too stubborn to admit her inability to Harry, and all of the sudden very found it difficult to look him in the eye.

"Come on, Girls love to dance!"

The disbelief and – was that hurt? – was evident in his voice. She pushed the guilt she immediately felt far away from her.

"Not me."

She was way too proud to ever admit not knowing how to dance.

"Are you sure? It would be fun!"

He sounded really unsure all of the sudden. The feeling of guilt intensified, but her stubbornness won.

"No, I'm not dancing!"

He seemed resigned now.

"Mind if I dance without you? We can meet after this dance is finished, alright?"

Ginny nodded sourly. She was angry at herself and her stubbornness rather than Harry, but she wouldn't ever admit to that. Just as she would never admit that she couldn't dance. She bit back a wave of jealousy as she watched Harry walk up to a girl she guessed to be that girl Jade the bakery-bloke Bardol had mentioned. She giggled and let herself be led to the row of dancers. They seemed to know each other, Ginny noted. The tan girl was slimmer that her, she thought, had longer and shinier brown hair and was taller than her. Of course he would pick that girl to dance with him. She was beautiful. Ginny scowled. Suddenly, the redhead halted. Was she jealous? Why? She mentally shook her head. It was probably because he had promised to go on this journey with her. Now he was abandoning her for a little fun and the next best girl from the village. She nodded to herself. That was the only explanation. Content her logic, Ginny turned away and began looking through the city, at all the things sold in the little market stalls. Wondering whether some kind of magical community existed in this world, she decided that there wasn't much she could do. Snickering at how much she sounded like Hermione, she came to a decision: She needed the library.

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Confused and slightly hurt, Harry turned away from Ginny, whose eyes suddenly seemed cold as opposed to the spark of light that had been shining there just a moment earlier. When he saw Jade however, he forgot about Ginny's cold behaviour and was instead happy to see his friend, whom he hadn't met in ages. His last few visits to Esgaroth had been less eventful than his first one, as he gradually became used to the crowds. That didn't mean however, that he was comfortable with many people, but Jade had helped him adjusting. She had shown him a lot of less known streets and alleys that helped him get through the city unnoticed and unbothered. She was like a sister to him, and he had been very glad to hear that she would be married to someone she knew and liked. The man even let her continue working for Barold at the bakery, for the sake of making more money. However, it was only a matter of time before he would want children, and Harry knew that Jade's dream of staying an independent woman would be have no chance of survival when that happened. He tried not to think about any of that as he embraced her in a friendly, but still unconventional hug that earned them many scandalized glares from bypassing people.

"It seems like centuries have passed since I last saw you! Let me look at you. You still look as gorgeous as the day you left me. Tell me, do these pointy eared children treat you right? Of course they do, I always forget you're one of them. Oh, Harry, it's so wonderful to see you again, squirt."

He rolled his eyes good heartedly.

"You know I'm not ten anymore, right? I'm nearly a foot taller than you."

"Nah-ah, maybe half a foot."

"Three quarters."

"Five eighth."

"Eleven sixteenth"

"Oh, come on, now you're being ridiculous."

"Says Miss 'I'm-389-minutes-older-than-you'."

"But that's true!"

"Whatever you say."

"Of course. I'm after all, always right. Do you want to dance?"

Grinning at her bluntness he let himself be led towards the dancing couples in the middle of the market place. It was so refreshing to have Jade around. She was a shining example of how the people here expected you _not_ to be. They joined the crowd as the next song began, and started chatting.

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Ginny looked around in the marketplace, searching for an indication as to where the library could be. When she didn't find even the smallest clue, she gave up and decided to ask someone.

"Erm, excuse me, Mam, would you happen to know in which direction I could find the library?"

The woman turned around when Ginny spoke to her, but the smile she'd had on her lips just a second ago dropped instantly when she saw her clothes and while she eyed Ginny's attire, she scrunched up her nose in disdain. The woman only jerked her head vaguely in the direction of a big house that had to be roughly the centre of the town.

"Next to the townhall."

And with that, she turned on her heel, not even giving Ginny the chance to thank the stranger. She shrugged. She should have been prepared for those reactions. From what she had seen, it wasn't exactly normal for women to wear trousers, just as it was in the wizarding world. But this behaviour seemed a bit extreme to her. Trying not to ponder over it for too long, Ginny slowly made her way through the crowd, towards her final destination. Even a few streets away from the main market place, there were still many booths selling a variety of things. Seeing as she had as much time as she wanted, she stopped occasionally to examine some of the more interesting objects. Three men, about as tall and sturdy as a goblin, but with faces like heavily bearded humans tried to sell her a necklace that could contain and spray a small amount of poison if she ever felt the need to protect herself. She merely smiled politely and pointedly continued looking over the various daggers they had on display.

Moving on, she gazed through the crowd. Out of the blue, she was suddenly overcome with an unpleasant sensation she hadn't been confronted with since her arrival in Mirkwood. Someone was attempting an assault on her mind. Curiously, she looked round, trying to determine where it was coming from, and she found herself drawn to a remote booth that stood halfway in one of the many narrow alleyways. It looked so suspicious, it was almost ridiculous. Narrowing her eyes, she decided to investigate – she was a Gryffindor after all – so she made her way towards the suspected location of the culprit. As soon as she arrived, she knew there was something wrong. First of all, all of the other booths had a least some customers, while nobody seemed to even notice this one. Secondly, there were no objects on display – the little stall was empty except for a balding, mousy haired man, who was looking directly at her. As if that hadn't been creepy enough, he stood up, and waved at her. The tugging in her mind became stronger. She shook her head. Should she go and see what was going on or should she go on, alerting the meagre man of her immunity to Legilimency? Mentally berating herself, she quickened her step towards the man, asking herself when she had ever ran away from a challenge. The man, taller than expected, was now standing directly in front of her, grimacing – although, she supposed, he had probably aimed for a welcoming smile.

"Hello darling, we've been waiting for you. Why don't you come in?"

Not knowing what else to do, she smiled as stupidly as possible and nodded. This seemed to satisfy the man, and he turned towards the alley behind the stall, clearly expecting her to follow him. The tugging in her mind stayed. She tilted her head, trying to figure him out. He wasn't the one performing Legilimency. The mind control had come from the building behind the stall, that much she knew - apparently, that was where she being led to.

Behind the booth, was a door, obviously not the front entrance to the house, but probably one for servants. As they entered, Ginny couldn't see anything, for there was pitch-black darkness inside. The first thing her senses registered, was a silky, high tenor that came from upstairs.

"Have you seized the girl?"

The voice sent goosebumps up her spine, and not the pleasant sort. The man to accompany the voice came down a set of stairs, which she could now make out at the end of the room they had just entered. The air was stifling, and there were no windows. The floor was made of raw stone, and it was slightly damp, which added to the unpleasant odour in the room. Her eyes were adjusting to the light slowly, and after a few moments she could see that apart from the stairs, there wasn't much too see in here. With only a few wooden timbers supporting the ceiling, it seemed as though this room wasn't much used for anything, understandable, considering how moist it was.

"Yes. I'd say it's enough for now, we can't risk too many disappearances on one day."

Too many disappearances? Ginny looked around worriedly, but couldn't see anyone else.

"Don't boss me around! Remember, you may be the older one, but _I_ am the talented one, understood?"

The Giant and the Tenor, as she had decided to call them for the time being made no move to check if she was really succumbed to the whims of the Tenor's mind control. Instead they moved into the corner on the far left, furthest away from the door, and seemed to roam the floor for something. Subtly, Ginny checked if she still had her dagger where she'd put it this morning, and pushed it under her sleeve, the hilt hidden inside her fist. A dull thud caused her to flinch slightly, but the two men seemed to be fully concentrated on the room under the trapdoor they had just opened. The tugging in her mind became stronger for a moment, and she obediently followed the urge to follow the men, not wanting to blow her cover. It was ridiculously easy to fend off the attack for her, as someone who knew – if only the basics - of Occlumency. If she hadn't been trained, she wouldn't have stood a chance against the attack. It had been subtle and sly, and she hadn't felt anything before it had actively tried to seize her willpower – by then, the intruder had already had a relatively strong grip on her mind. She had managed to keep her free will, but had not attempted to free herself from the iron grip the Tenor had her mind in. She wanted to find out what was going on.

A torch was lit and she could see the faces of both men now. They looked similar and were probably brothers from the looks of it, although the Tenor wasn't as tall as the giant. In fact, Ginny strongly suspected that the Tenor was only a few inches taller than her. The Giant was well taller than anyone she had ever met, including Dumbledore and Kingsley, which meant something considering how tall they were. The Brothers were both thin and frail looking, but she could see the strength behind the giant's movements. He seemed to be strong, but also a bit slow, while the Tenor seemed to rely solely on his Legilimency-ability.

"Hurry up! That one is particularly slow. Make sure she doesn't break free, you idiot."

"Hey, shut up! Noone can defy my ability, remember? I tested it on you, you never once were able to resist, you great oaf!"

'Wonderful,' Ginny thought sarcastically, 'a pair of squabbling siblings.'

Not wanting to rouse any suspicions, but simultaneously preparing to attack, Ginny moved towards the pair. When she finally got a look at the room below the hatch, she nearly gasped. Half a dozen young women and men sat in such a narrow hallway, it didn't deserve that name. It resembled more the tunnel of an animal than something human built. The men and women were gagged and bound and all of them had a vacant expression in their eyes that spoke of mind control. Ginny gulped. She couldn't just leave those people there.

As soon as she stood next to the two leaders, she decided it was time to act. She gripped the hilt of her dagger tighter. In the blink of an eye, she brought up her knee to the giant's unprotected privates, and before he could even think of anything but howling in pain, she punched him in the throat and knocked him unconscious with a well-aimed blow of the blunt end of the hilt against his temple. He wouldn't be a problem in the near future. She turned to look at the Tenor. He was watching his brother with a panicked expression and wide eyes.

"Oy! Look at me."

His eyes reluctantly met Ginny's, and she instantly felt another blow to her mind. It wasn't much compared to the Legilimency Sirius had used to train her, but it was enough to keep her occupied for a moment. When she had finally thrown him out with her rudimentary skills at the metal defences, she took her opportunity and pushed the Tenor against the wall, her dagger against his throat.

"What are you doing with those people?"

He just stared at her, wide-eyed. She was careful not to make direct eye contact again, but instead concentrated on his nose.

"Talk!"

He seemed to shake himself, and stuttered.

"I-I-I- We- We are… only innocent lackeys! The big bosses do everything else, I swear! I don't know anything, please don't kill me!"

"I don't believe you."

She pushed her blade a bit harder, drawing a few droplets of blood. The cut was in no way deep, but it was enough to cause pain. Panic was now evident in his demeanour, as he struggled against her. She just tightened her grip on him and narrowed her eyes. His body slacked, and he seemed to realize that he had no choice but to tell the truth. Ginny did in no way lessen her hold.

"Fine."

He nearly spat the word in her face. The stuttering was gone, apparent was now the strong willed Legilimens.

"We sell them, alright! There are people out there willing to pay a good price for a slave in such a good condition. If you could let me down now please, I need to get on with my business."

And with that, the strongest attack on her mind up until now made her head explode with pain, and she involuntarily let go of the Tenor. Clutching her head in pain, her knees gave in. She vaguely registered the man slipping past her, not before kicking the dagger out of her hands and picking it up. It was nothing compared to Bellatrix Lestrange's Cruciatus, but it was still enough to make her want to black out. The pain didn't stop until she heard the muffled sound of the trap-door closing. Taking a short moment to collect herself, she stood up with a fiery expression on her face. This vile excuse for a human being used his powers to trade slaves. That bastard was going to pay. She looked down at the Giant, who was still lying on the ground, unconscious. Although she felt repulsed at the thought of going anywhere near him, she searched his pockets and his belt. Luckily, she was successful, and found a small knife and a rope on the man. Nervously, she pocketed the rope and took the knife in her hand. She should tie him up, but he only had one rope, and that one she could use as a weapon. How was she supposed make sure he stayed here? She could use the knife to sever a tendril or a few strands of muscle to keep him from walking, but with the bad means of healing and even worse hygiene conditions in this city – again reminding her of the Middle Ages - an open wound would most likely be a death sentence. She didn't want to kill the lad. He may be an arse and in a despicable business branch, but for all she knew, it was possible for slavery to be allowed. She sighed. This wasn't a death eater. She couldn't just go on and kill him. Feeling conflicted, she let him be and got up towards where the Tenor had vanished. She lifted the hatch and crawled down. None of the people who sat here previously were there anymore, so she assumed they had gone down the narrow tunnel. She was cautious, but not scared. A sense of calmness had overcome her. She knew how to handle this situation. This was what she had been trained to do. Adrenaline made sure she felt neither exhausted nor the headache that usually accompanied the recovery from mental attacks. With fast, light steps she moved in the only direction the path offered, and soon saw the light of a torch bouncing off the walls. She gripped the knife tighter and quieted her breathing. The Tenor wouldn't be much of a threat, as long as she surprised him. Her dagger wouldn't do him much good.

"If you don't know how to handle a weapon properly, it's used against you in most cases." Ginny thought triumphantly. She was going to use that to her full advantage.

Four men and two women, she counted before her, and in the lead was the Tenor. The people in front of her made quite a bit of noise. The slightly sloppy mind control prevented them from watching where they were going and that resulted in constant stumbling, shuffling and most importantly: noise. As quietly as possible, and under the cover of the victims' sounds, she squeezed past the people and made it to the front undetected. They looked at her, glassy eyed, unseeing. Pushing every bit of guilt she felt aside, in favour for the innocent people she would save by thing, she let the rope slip into her hand, and before the Tenor could do anything, she had it wrapped around his neck. He immediately began to struggle, but Ginny was stronger. She had been trained for this kind of thing. His fingernails clawed at the rope, her dagger was nowhere in sight. After a short time, the struggles became less and less, and finally, he slumped into her arms, unconscious. She gulped and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

'He deserved this,' she told herself, 'this was justified.'

A short glance over her shoulder told her, that the mind control had lost its effects with noone being there to maintain the control. Breathing deeply, she pushed the queasiness and the guilt she felt to the back of her mind. She had more pressing concerns that her morals.

"What is this?! Where are we?!"

The people looked around, confused, and scared, and Ginny was thankful that they didn't break into panic.

"You were drugged and abducted by this bastard here and his partner at the end of the tunnel. Be happy that I was immune against the drug and that I am more than capable of fighting these two goons. Now. If you'd like to follow me, I know way out."

Too confused to really protest, the victims seemed to accept her story. She looked at the fallen body on the ground. Her dagger – well, the dagger she had borrowed from harry – had fallen out of one of his pockets in the struggle. She bent down and picked it up.

"Could one of you guys help me with this lad? I'd hand him over to the authorities if I were you."

The Tenor was surprisingly light, even for his small stature and it was easy for her and one of the men to carry him all the way back to the surface. When she closed the hatch behind her and laid the Tenor back on the floor, she looked around the damp room. The silence that met her ears was deafening. When she saw what they were all staring at, she did a double take. The Giant hadn't ran off, that much was clear. He'd never be able to run away in his condition. He had been decapitated. She gulped down bile. The body was gone, only the head was still there. Someone had hung it from the ceiling, oddly reminding her of a piñata. Ginny wanted to look away, but found that she couldn't avert her eyes. Who would do such a thing? A muffled scream came from the floor. It seemed the Tenor had woken up. With wide eyes, he looked at the wall behind the head, probably not daring to see the head of his brother. Ginny followed his gaze and paled.

 **No talking, Delmarre.**

Someone had written that message on the wall, in blood. Her throat tightened, her breathing grew quick and shallow and the words began to swim in front of her eyes. Panic constricted her chest, as she felt herself being transported back in time, to the day she had written her own death message in bold, red, bloody letters and went into the chamber of secrets. The night that had changed the wizarding world permanently. A choked sob escaped her lips and a sharp pain in her knees brought her back to reality. Embarrassed, she noted that she had fallen to her knees. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she got back up and looked at the Tenor. Well. His name was probably Delmarre. He wouldn't be of much use now. She had planned to ask him a few questions regarding his line of work, but she could see how that was useless now. She looked at his victims.

"Could you handle him? I'm sure you want revenge or justice or something. I… I'll leave him to you. Just don't kill him, alright?"

They all nodded, but nobody made a move to seize the Tenor. Ginny mentally shrugged. It wasn't her problem anymore.

"Wait!"

Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at the tenor, who was still kneeling on the ground as he had called after her.

"What?"

"I… can feel her on you. You're one of **them.** Tell her. Tell her she doesn't have any power over me. I will never be hers!"

He looked positively crazy, with wide eyes, a scared expression and a cruelly twisted smile on his face. She stared at him for a second, calculating.

"I have no Idea what you're talking about."

With that, she turned around and left the building emotionally completely drained, and not once looking back.

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Harry cursed quietly as ran through the crowds, searching for Ginny. Kidnappings of young men and women all over the city. Right out of the crowds, people were disappearing. Just as fate wanted it, most of them pale, with freckles with blonde or red hair. He had to find her. With his luck, she was probably already abducted, gagged and bound in someone's basement, ready to be sold into slavery. He had ran off as soon as Jade told him of these occurrences. Ginny hadn't been at the marketplace, neither had she been in the library. He just passed the townhall, as he noticed something odd. A group of people transporting a bound, gagged man up the stairs of the building. He decided it was worth looking into.

"Excuse me, Sir, who is that?"

One of the men who carried the hostage looked at him, grimly. Harry noted they were all blondes or red-heads.

"He was the one who drugged and abducted us."

Harry's eyes widened.

"How did you get away?"

The man shrugged.

"Some girl was there. Said she was immune to the drug and disappeared after we found this scum's brother dead."

Hope rose in Harry's chest. Could it be…?

"Did the girl have red hair, brown eyes, and… did she wear trousers?"

The man seemed to think.

"Yeah… I think she wore trousers. It was too dark to see her hair colour, even with a torch. But I noticed her odd choice of clothing."

"Thank you, you helped me greatly. Did she say where she was going?"

The man shook his head, and continued walking to the townhall, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the way. Ginny had gotten away. He closed his eyes for a second, bringing his chaotic thoughts in order, and then took off as fast as he could, through as many shortcuts as he could think of. Finally, he reached the 'Golden Dragon', and with a pounding heart, he raced up the stairs towards their room. He struggled to get the key to open the lock, but finally, after what seemed like hours, he managed it. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. There she sat, on their bed, staring at her shoes.

"Ginny!"

She looked up, her face expressionless.

"Harry."

"What happened? I just heard that there were a lot of people abducted. You too, right?"

She nodded.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Am I a bad person?"

"What?"

He looked at her perplexed.

"I… It's my fault that one of our attacker's died. If I hadn't left him there, defenceless and unconscious, he wouldn't have been killed."

"Yes, but did you know that he'd be killed back then, when you left him?"

She shook her head, and Harr smiled softly.

"See? You didn't kill him, it wasn't your fault, and you couldn't have known. Just as it wasn't my fault that the guard died when the spiders attacked."

She nodded, he shook her head, closing her eyes.

"I know it isn't my fault, it's just… when I saw his brother was dead, I didn't pity our attacker. I didn't pity the dead man. I don't feel anything. What does that make me?"

Harry gulped.

"Human. We cannot control our emotions. But it is our actions that determine who we are. You did everything to the best of your abilities, I believe. You should always be aware that our actions define our characters."

Ginny opened her eyes, and looked at him with an insecure half-smile, before closing her eyes again. She seemed to be collecting herself, and Harry sat down on the chair in their room and took out all their maps. When she sat down next to him, she had a smile on her face. Harry smiley back tiredly. It was astounding how similar they both were. Suppressing emotions in order to not drown in self-loathing – regardless of how bad it was, was apparently a trait shared by them. But, he supposed, it took one to know one, so if they had any chance at overcoming this flaw, it would be each other.

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Harry and Ginny stayed in Esgaroth for two weeks. They spent their time mostly in the library, occasionally with the help of Jade, even though her reading skills were rudimentary at best. She and Ginny got along marvellously after an initial scepticism. They had promised the brunette to return, when they got back home, and then went their way. They weren't even out of the city, as Harry felt something tug at his tunic. He looked down, to see a little girl in long black robes with large dark eyes and long black hair. She reminded him oddly of somebody, but he couldn't remember whom.

"Are you alright? Where is your mother?"

"Don't touch the water."

He froze. Her voice sounded older than the girl looked, almost like a croak. He remembered those words. He remembered that voice. The old woman in the forest. But that wasn't possible, right? The little girl smiled up at him sweetly. Her teeth looked just like those of the woman in the forest. One side perfectly white and orderly, the other side brown-blackish and incomplete.

"Who- What are you?"

The girl just shook her head and disappeared into the crowd of people behind Harry and Ginny before either of them could stop her. When someone lay a hand on his shoulder, Harry flinched and turned around so fast he swore he could hear the bones in his neck crack.

A young woman, barely older than Ginny with large dark eyes, long black hair and black robes. Her smile was as bipartite as the little girl and the old woman's.

"Don't touch the water."

This time around, he managed to grab her arm before she could get away. She froze completely and then very slowly raised her free hand. She lifted her index finger and waggled it, as if to scold a naughty child, while very slowly shaking her head. Then everything happened so fast he could barely register it. A shadow passed over her face, even though seconds before the sun shone directly at her and nothing could have caused it. When the dark patch was gone, half her face was a mere skeleton, with a gaping hole where her eye was supposed to be. Only small patches of skin where left on that side of her face, but they had an unhealthy blueish-blackish colour - it looked like dead flesh. This image lasted only there for a couple of seconds but Harry let go of her hand, in shock, and she was gone the split of a second later. Harry blinked as she vanished on the spot. She had suddenly looked as though she was made out of sand and then dispersed by a strong breeze, even though there had been no wind. He heard Ginny huff besides him.

"I guess we'd better not touch the water then." She said dryly.

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 **Sooo, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'd love to receive a review, I'm a nice person and write back ;)**

 **Kiliel Shipper:** Always a pleasure ;) Definitely no offence taken, just grateful for the review :)

 **Mishi Gohiku:** I'm sorry, but that question won't come up until much later… but still, it will be covered.

 **OnlyBo:** Thank you so much for the nice review :D Nice to know my ideas are appreciated, and you don't have to fear that – I don't like those stories either. I try to keep everything as realistic as possible. I like my characters human :) A lot more magic use will be there in the next chapter, when they're on the way and have time to think and practice magic. Hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway.

 **Aquafin:** You loved…me/my story/yourself/your hobbies? (Just filling in the blanks ;)) Thanks for the review, it's good to know what others think of my writing :)

 **Jesus died for us:** Sure thing, here you go ^^

 **Trainreader:** Thanks for the comment :) Hm, interesting question. I'd say it's a little bit of both, so keep reading to find out ;)


	12. The journey goes on - 11

**The journey goes on - 11**

A new chapter at long last - don't worry, the story won't be abandoned, I just don't have much time on the internet anymore. I hope'll you enjoy the chapter :)

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A week after Harry and Ginny had left Esgaroth, the weather started to become less welcoming. The mornings grew misty and damp, and the evenings windy and cold. During the day, unpleasant rains increased in frequency, but after Harry had learned how to charm fire waterproof, the bone-chilling moisture became more or less bearable. Harry found, that he was either a very good pupil, or Ginny a very good teacher. It was probably a combination of both, judging by the impressive progress Harry made. It was almost like his magic had just been waiting for a chance to finally get out and do something more than what it was used for on a daily basis. Harry found, how letting different amounts of magic into a spell, affected both his own body, mind and magic, as well as the result of said spell. He learned how the intended transformation is directly influenced by bodyweight, viciousness, wandpower, concentration and an unknown variable Z. He watched Ginny's attempts at potions, and learned about Golpalotts's laws of potion making, Gamp's laws of transfiguration and quite a lot about the importance of destination, determination and deliberation. However, he didn't just learn magic. He also taught his skills.

Ginny had told him repeatedly how she knew _muggle fighting -_ as she called it - but after a quick demonstration and a lot of bruises, she agreed that fists and a dagger – or seax - might not be a match for swords, battle axes and war hammers. She had developed most of the muscles she'd need most in a fight quite nicely, so what he needed to teach her now were technique, strategy and how to best handle a weapon. The only problem was, that they didn't have that many weapons with them. He couldn't give up his own two-handed longsword, and the seax he had given her back at the palace was not enough. He vowed to have a good weapon forged for Ginny, when they would arrive in Edhellond.

It was the twelfth night on their journey when they reached the last trees at the end of Mirkwood. They would continue their way towards the River Anduin the next morning. Usually, the distance they had walked would have taken them about eight days, but with both of them trying to learn the other's skills as much as possible, they took some more time.

This evening however, the two travellers had no intention on practicing their expertise in warfare. Both of them were trying to be as quiet as possible. They hadn't even started a fire. Back to back, they sat on a dry spot of leaves under a wide oak-tree. After losing a game of 'stone, cloak, wand', he was forced to take the first watch until it was time to wake Ginny. He still had to wait about two hours before he could go to sleep, but he honestly didn't mind – he would probably stay awake anyway. The air around them was charged with energy. They had sensed it for days. Now, the density of the power in the air was at its peak. Nearly tangible, a presence that had every nerve in his body tingling and his magical core in a turmoil. He had never felt as much dark magic concentrated in one place – and they weren't even that close to Dol Guldur.

Harry was tense. Tense and alert, ready to fight and kill at the slightest movement in his environment. He flinched accordingly, when suddenly Ginny turned to look at him.

"I thought you were asleep!" he whispered quietly, with as much force as he could muster. Ginny shrugged and nodded at the same time.

"I can't. There's too much… I don't know what, but it makes me uneasy and I can't fall asleep." She answered in a low voice. There was a short silence.

"I know what you mean."

"Then it really doesn't make sense for us to try and rest here."

"We could always continue our journey."

"That's the best thing you said this evening. Let's go."

It didn't take them long to get their things, as neither of them had bothered to unpack anything. They started walking in silence, still trying to make as little noise as possible. It wasn't a relaxed or enjoyable silence. It was the kind of muteness that threatened to suffocate you. Up until now, there had never been this much tension on their journey, but Harry was not as comfortable as he usually was with tension in a dangerous situation. Particularly since he didn't really know what was so threatening about this place. There may have been a lot of dark magic in the air, but he had no idea how old it was. This black energy could have resulted from an event that happened eons ago. Harry shook his head. He was probably overreacting. A quick glance at Ginny however showed him, that from under her long red waves of hair, her eyes warily surveyed their environment. She seemed just as jumpy and anxious as him. Finally, the tension was too much to bear, and very quietly, he whispered:

"Ginny, tell me again, who did the strange woman we met just outside Esgaroth look like?"

She threw him a questioning look, turned her head and quickly scanned her surroundings.

"She's a figure from Norse mythology. Goddess of Death, I think. I don't remember much more, but I still have no clue what she's supposed to do here. In middle earth, Norse mythology doesn't even exist!"

Desperate to keep up their conversation, and to not fall into excruciating silence again, Harry continued.

"Yes, but in some way, every culture has the concept of a deity ruling over their dead. So, maybe you are confusing her with some kind of entity originating in Arda."

"Interesting Concept." said someone behind them.

Harry's heart nearly gave out as he turned to see who had spoken. He sensed Ginny next to him do the same thing. Both of their eyes fell onto the owner of the voice simultaneously. It was a woman, but instead of arms, she had wings. By the looks of the feathers, Harry guessed she was supposed to look like some kind of kite. She had an oriental look to her, with heavily painted eyes and colourful, airy robes.

"Hello. I would recommend not going in that direction, just in case you want to live."

She pointed west, towards a group of trees Ginny and him had been walking towards. A smile revealed pearly white, perfectly orderly teeth. Hesitantly, Harry took a step towards the out-of-place looking woman.

"Hel?"

Her head snapped around, and she pinned him down with her eyes.

"Hel spoke to you. I wonder if you can guess who this is."

She turned to look at Ginny.

"Just one clue: My reign begins, but has no end, for it ends all that begins."

With a strong gust of wind she was gone. Ginny looked at Harry questioningly.

"I was never good at riddles. Do you know what she meant?"

"The riddle is ridiculously easy. Naturally, the answer is Death. We know that Hel was a deity in connection to death… Maybe this was another one of those gods and goddesses. From the sound of what you told me, the many peoples of your earth worship a multitude of deities."

Ginny half shook her head, half nodded.

"When you say it like that, it sounds plausible, but didn't she strike you as odd? I found her whole manner very similar to Hel's. Her gestures, how she moved her facial expressions. Also, the way she vanished, was just like that one time you grabbed Hel's arm. She looked like sand all of the sudden."

"What strikes _me_ as curious, is that Hel did not disappear like that, when I did not grab her arm. Neither of us touched this being, so why would she vanish that way? What's the reason for such a dramatic exit?"

Ginny looked just as clueless as he felt. He mentally shook his head, and elected to change the subject.

"To a more pressing concern: Will we heed her warning and not continue our path to the river, or will we follow the way we chose for ourselves."

An uncomfortable expression came onto his companion's face. Now that the excitement about the appearance of the goddess was gone, they once again felt the dark, threatening atmosphere with full force.

"I feel like we should take every warning we can get. I don't like this place, and if someone, who clearly knows more than we do, tells us not to go somewhere, then we should probably do just that and not go there."

Harry nodded, not entirely convinced, and eyed the small group of trees ahead of them. It would be a lot more challenging to navigate on empty wasteland instead of just walking along the edge of the woods. It may have sounded easy, but walking a straight line without a proper orientation-point was hard. It would be much easier to just continue the way they had chosen beforehand.

"You know, I have an idea. Your animal – what was it called again? – your Animagus form, is perfectly equipped to hide in this grassland around us, and will probably be able to hide in the forest as well. You could go and see what she warned us about. That way, we would not endanger ourselves more than necessary, and we would not have to blindly trust that odd stranger."

Ginny seemed torn, her eyes betrayed her worry.

"It's not that I don't think that's a brilliant idea and all, but when a deity warns you not to go somewhere, it's probably better to listen, don't you think?"

"Since when are you inclined to listen to anyone but yourself?"

The corner of her mouth twitched, softly, as if she had to hold back a smile, and she shrugged.

"Okay. I guess you're right. But in the name of Merlin's blue underpants, if something happens to me, I'll haunt you for the rest of your pitiful existence."

She winked and gave him a weak smile before he saw her bone-structure shifting, her hair retreating, and fur growing out of her skin and clothes. Once she was wholly transformed, nothing but a small spot of reddish fur on her head and the freckle-like spots across her face, reminded of her once human appearance. Intelligent brown eyes found Harry's, and seemed to say "Wait here!", then the feline turned and made her way through the high and yellowish grass.

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The rush of excitement that always accompanied the transformation into a leopard would have made her laugh out loud if she had still been human. New smells and new sounds invaded her senses, and as soon as her eyes had adjusted to the dark of the night, she could see so much more. She could hear at least five different mice, and a few more rabbits moving about in the dry grass around her, if she looked closely, she could even see glimpses of their furry little bodies. The dark magical aura she had felt with full force just moments ago, felt now muffled, as her magic was nearly inaccessible to her while she was transformed. With one last glance back at Harry, she practically glided through the grass. The animal in her was in its element. Fast, and without making a sound, she neared the small group of trees that had to be one of the strongest sources of dark magic she'd ever seen – and she'd been face to face Bellatrix Lestrange. She shuddered slightly, and pushed that though far away from her consciousness, before concentrating on the matter at hand.

Only minutes later, she reached the bushes surrounding the trees. All senses alert as they'd never been before, adrenaline pumping through her veins like her life depended on it and more afraid that she would've liked to admit, she slowly crept forward. She didn't smell or see anything out of the ordinary, neither did the air taste unnatural or dangerous. The only indicators that something was off, were her sudden urge to hide herself, far away from these trees, the fact that the fur on the back of her neck stood on ends, and the peculiar things she could hear. The hooves of a slightly nervous, but from the sound of it rather huge horse, and an odd sort of sniffing. Just a moment later, her snout broke through the undergrowth, and she was faced with a small clearing. Her feline eyes went wide at what she saw. There was a rider, a silhouette like a man, clad in a long black cloak, sat on a large, black horse. The Thing was tall, its face hidden in the shadows of a hood. It sat there, unmoving, its head bowed, and the sniffing seemed to come from it.

Could the creature smell her?

As if the figure heard her thought, its head abruptly turned towards the bushes where she was hiding. Paralyzed with a sudden wave of terror, she was unable to hide from the Thing's gaze. Its face remained shadowy and invisible to her eyes, and with all her heart she hoped, that the Thing would somehow not see her. She felt as if an icy hand had grabbed hold of her, when she could physically feel the creature's eyes on her. The gelid fingers of fear threatened to choke her. She was sure she wouldn't live to see the next sunrise.

It was over a split of a second later.

The thing once again bowed its head, unaware of her presence. Ginny stared, heart racing, and did not dare move even a single muscle. Slowly, very slowly, the terror that had kept her firmly in place started to ebb off, morphing into the strong urge to run and hide she'd felt earlier. It took her possibly more will-power to resist this urge and mindlessly rush off at the highest speed she could manage, than it had taken to keep from crying out under the Cruciatus curse. Every single one of her instincts was screaming at her to flee. Quietly slinking back into the shadows seemed to take a whole eternity, and when she finally reached Harry, she was so emotionally drained, she could have fallen asleep right here and then, but adrenaline and fear kept her wide alert. Her voice was a barely understandable whisper when she changed back, and she once again felt the full concentration of dark magic filling the air around her. Her hands trembled.

"We have to get away from here. Now."

Her companion seemed to read the emotions that played on her face like an open book, even though he displayed none. With an unreadable expression he took both of their backpacks and set off in a fast pace. Had her head been clear and not befuddled with fear, stress and weariness, she'd have complained and asked if he thought she was too weak to carry her own bag, but the thought didn't even reach through the haze of thoughts that seemed to have wrapped itself around her consciousness.

'Flee. Run. Far away. Away from here. Fast.' chanted a voice in her head, like a calming mantra, though it did nothing to calm her down.

She seemed to run completely on Auto-pilot. She had no idea how much time passed until the sun went up again. All the way she could've sworn she heard hooves galloping behind them, or someone sniffing down her neck, but when she turned around, she saw nothing but grassland and a few trees in the distance. Harry didn't seem to notice her paranoia, or the sounds she heard, and he usually had sharper senses out of the two of them, so she trusted his ability to sense potential danger. It was nearly noon when Harry stopped and she nearly bumped into him, too exhausted to notice.

"This is the great river Anduin. We have successfully left the brown lands behind us now."

Ginny looked up, and indeed: there was a wide, shallow and rocky river in front of them. She was too tired to take notice of the beautiful scenery. Birds were singing on some of the few trees on the other side of the water, a handful of frogs and crickets softly sang their songs in the background.

"Can we drink from it?"

The two of them made their way down to the waterside. The pebbles felt odd under her feet, after the many hours of walking through high grass. When she felt she'd drunk enough to satisfy her thirst for the time being, she turned to her companion.

"I'd say we take a break here. It's quiet and peaceful as far as I can see."

Harry nodded and handed her the backpack he'd somehow ended up carrying. She was too tired to care how that happened. A relatively soft spot of sand, surrounded with high grass that gave shelter from the sun was where she laid down her bag and used it as a pillow. Only seconds after she laid down, exhaustion got the better of her, and she gave in to the dark abyss of a deep and dreamless sleep.

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Grimmauld Place Number 12 was one of the most crowded places in all of Britain. It was a lot louder than all the other four-story buildings in the street – although neither the neighbours nor anyone but its residents were aware of that small piece of trivia. Nearly every room was full of people, bustling about on their daily business. In the kitchen, a few of them were currently preparing lunch, an elderly woman with ginger hair supervising them, while she herself was preparing a sandwich with great care. In another room, some worried looking adults were studying a giant map on a wall, marking some locations with red dots. In the biggest room of Grimmauld Place Number 12 people of all ages were chatting, reading and setting up giant tables for the previously mentioned lunch. One story above that, school-aged children were gathered around a stern looking woman with a high, pointy hat, writing complicated looking diagrams on a blackboard.

A vast majority of the rooms in the Building looked like that. A group of about a handful people pursuing one or another activity together. There were only two rooms that did not follow that rule. One was the Library - quiet and its only occupant a young woman with a lot of bushy brown hair. The other room was located on the first floor. The most noticeable thing about it, was that except for two chairs and a small table, it was completely empty. The Wall opposite the windows was completely black. Tiny inscriptions in various colours gave the whole thing a solemn look. It almost looked like a memorial.

There was a lonely person sitting in front of that wall. Unkempt ash-blond hair, sunken eyes and nearly translucent skin made him look more dead that alive. His blank eyes were staring stonily at a silvery group of words on the black wall, as if he wanted to erase them through sheer willpower.

Narcissa Malfoy (née Black)

Born April 27th 1955

Died October 31st 1998

The young man winced as he heard a soft knock on the door, but didn't bother to look up when that someone let themselves in. A plate with a sandwich on it was placed on the table in front of the ill looking teenager. His refusal to acknowledge both the plate and the new presence in the room would have made the ensuing silence awkward, had the other not exuded this peculiar sort of calming authority.

The tall ginger man sat down in the other chair, also looking at the black wall, though watching another name. Years had taken a hard toll on his appearance, making him look far older than he actually was. A receding hairline, greying hair, together with wrinkles all over his face and deep bags under his eyes however, told only the truth about how much he had to worry about various people.

"What the hell do you want, blood traitor."

The young man spoke first, probably hoping to scare the man away with nasty words, rather than waiting for him to leave on his own.

"Starving yourself won't bring her back, you know."

A flash of anger crossed the youth's features, but his voice remained calm and steady.

"What the fuck do you want?"

A heavy sigh left the older man's lips, a look of sadness in his eyes. He shook his head lightly and glanced at the second occupant of this room.

"For starters, I want you to eat. After that it would be rather nice to see you take care of yourself, Draco."

Draco stubbornly stared at the wall, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. With biting sarcasm in his voice, he answered.

"That won't bring her back either, now, will it?"

Silence reigned the room once again, as the two men stared at the wall, looking at the names of their loved ones as if they were photographs.

"You know, letting yourself go, sounds like an insult to her sacrifice to me. She didn't hide you away from death, just so you could..."

"Stop it."

Draco's voice trembled with unconcealed rage. Fury burned in his eyes as he glared at Mr. Weasley.

"Don't you dare talk about her."

"You should be saying that to you-know-who, if anyon..."

"It was YOU who killed her, Weasley! You turned her away in a moment of vulnerability! You let her walk towards her certain death and did NOTHING!"

He had stood up by now, breathing heavily, and pointed an accusing finger at Mr. Weasley. The older man looked up, still exuding an air of patience and calmness, which only seemed to further enrage Draco.

"It's perfectly okay to be angry. It's not me who is to blame though. Maybe you don't understand yet, maybe you..."

"Don't you tell me I'm too young to understand. My Mother was brutally executed just days ago and you're telling me I'm too immature to understand... any of this?"

"No. I'm telling you it was your mother's choice to put your life before hers, and that you should put her motivations into consideration as well."

"Then why did she not simply safe both of our lives?! It would have been so easy! You should've just let her come with me! One or two more people won't hurt your petty little organization."

"I'm afraid the situation is much more complicated, Draco. Your mother took the dark mark long ago. It doesn't matter if she did it by choice or because she had to. Voldemort could, at any given moment, choose to find about her location. The only ward that could prevent him from getting that vital piece of information, would be the Fidelius charm. We once had one of those protecting this building, but most if its power died with Dumbledore. The rest slowly disintegrated with each second he stayed dead."

"You could've recast the charm. There are a lot of people here. One of them will know how to do it."

"Of course there are people who could cast this charm. Fidelius Flitwick is here, a master in that particular subject, and many other knowledgeable witches and wizards. However, while trying to rebuild such a complicated and draining charm, a huge amount of magical power would inevitably be released. With control over the ministry and basically every magical institution in Britain, you-know-who and his followers would be alerted faster that we could even hope to finish the charm."

"There must've been something you could've done. There's always a way. By letting her go, you personally signed her death sentence!"

"That's not how the world works, and you know it, Draco." Mr. Weasley said, shaking his head sadly.

"I don't need a blood traitor's pity", the blond young man practically spat out

"Young man, I understand you're angry, but please refrain from insulting me. First off, I don't pity you. And from what I understand, you never adopted our father's prejudices. Your mother raised you in a neutral environment, until your aunt was freed, and even then, the more extreme members of your family were rather busy serving You-know-who. Your father did, up until shortly before your arrival, never express any desire to spend more time with you than necessary." Mr Weasley answered, calm as ever, but with a slight hardness underlying his words.

"As if my Father had time to cater to his offspring, when he was busy licking someone else's boots. I am, after all, only his _heir_." The sarcasm in Draco's voice was sharp as a blade and laced with venom, nevertheless he sounded tired.

"You don't believe in Pureblood superiority." It was more a question than a statement, answered mostly with a sharp, humourless laugh.

"Of course I do. That doesn't mean I want the mudbloods dead. Who'll do the dirty work without them? A pureblood should never be forced to work as a secretary, or even lower. That still doesn't mean I want to rape, torture, and kill anyone who has a different opinion. I find it both distasteful, and beneath me."

Mr Weasley stayed silent, a slightly disgusted look on his face, as he looked at Draco with something akin to despair. It was again the blond youth who filled the silence.

"My Mother brought me here as soon as father first expressed the desire to remove me from her – as he called it – mollycoddling. He said, he planned to finally make me the Malfoy I should be, and not the sissy my mother raised me to be."

"Which would mean taking the mark."

"Which would mean torturing, killing, and doing deeds far beneath the dignity of a Malfoy. I will not kneel and bow for a Maniac of uncertain bloodlines. He may very well not even be a pureblood. I never thought I would say this, but my father is an embarrassment to the Malfoy-line."

Neither of them made an effort to fill the following silence. Finally, after quite some time, Mr. Weasley stood up.

"I know any attempts to change your opinion on blood would probably be in vain, so I won't talk any more of the subject. However, I may send your mother's cousin, Sirius to talk to you. He knows more of the topic than I do."

Draco gave a sound of contempt.

"You're trying to fix me when I'm broken. I should fix you and your disgustingly indifferent attitudes toward tradition, legacy and ancestors."

Arthur quietly made his way to the door, shaking his head lightly.

"You should really eat something. You haven't touched any of your food since you came here. It would make us all happy to see you take care of yourself."

Draco snorted, unbelieving, but otherwise remained quiet.

"You're also allowed to visit the library during daytime."

The young blond nodded, staring blankly at the black wall. The tall man looked at the mere boy on the chair tiredly when he reached the doors. He looked like he wanted to say something, but shook his head instead, closing the wooden door behind him with a muffled thud.

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Harry woke up at the break of dawn, to the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Feeling moderately refreshed, but extremely paranoid, he sat up, discreetly taking in his surroundings. When he found himself as blind as a groundhog on a sunny day however, he quickly began looking for his sight-restoring draught. He frowned when he found only one vial, nearly empty. He'd have to find the ingredients to make more.

Yesterday, he remembered, it has taken him every ounce of self-control he possessed to stay awake while Ginny slept until it was her turn to take over the watch. He was glad he had not succumbed to the sweet temptation of sleep, seeing as how sure he was of impending danger now. Who knew what might have happened had they both fallen asleep. Trying to get the remaining heaviness of sleep out of his limbs, he splashed his face with the frigid water of the Anduin River, and took his time quelling his thirst and soothing his dry throat.

When he was done, he turned towards the spot where he thought he'd seen Ginny out of the corner of his eye. Startled, he realized that there was indeed a small fire with the same colours as her hair, but his companion was nowhere in sight, warily, and with a sense of dark foreboding, he approached the flames with great caution. The tiny cauldron they had brought from Mirkwood stood in the midst of ash and pieces of wood.

It had definitely been Ginny who had placed these logs. She had a peculiar way of piling them; he had never seen anyone in middle earth do it like her people had apparently taught her to. The pebbles around the fire made it impossible to discern any footsteps, however closely he looked. Luckily, neither could he see any signs of a struggle. A light green fluid was merrily bubbling about in the miniature cauldron, no stones had been thrown into the fire, and no blackened logs were strewn along the river bank. All in all, the scene looked perfectly normal, except for the lack of Ginny's presence and the uneasy feeling in Harry's gut.

Before he could decide on whether to go looking for her, or to wait and see what would happen, he heard his companion's voice.

"Harry! Over here!"

She was standing between some trees on the other side of the river. Aside from her wet hair, she looked the same as yesterday, when he woke her up.

"Perfectly safe and unharmed." he reminded himself mentally, starting to feel annoyed at his own paranoia. While he waited for her to cross the river again, he wondered if he should ignore his suspicions. His gut was usually right, but that didn't mean there couldn't be any exceptions to that. He sight thoughtfully. It had been so much easier to travel with Estel, who took on most of the decision-making, regarding, well, anything and everything. Having somebody rely on Harry's judgement, rather than the other way 'round, was an unnerving, novel sensation. A cold wind passed over him, reminding him of the fact that it was indeed October. A mild day, compared to the ones they had lived through, but still: They'd have to hurry and get to the next city before the temperatures dropped once and for all to welcome this year's winter. They had yet to cross the mountains at least twice. He shivered at the thought. At least he'd learned how to properly do warming charms.

"Are you not feeling cold?" he asked Ginny when she was within hearing range, while pointing at her wet hair. A shrug accompanied her answer.

"A little. But my scalp gets really itchy when my hair is greasy. I couldn't bear it anymore."

She arrived next to Harry, cautiously smelling the greenish fumes coming out of the cauldron. A pleased grin appeared on her face.

"I've managed to find an adequate substitute for the Griffin claws. The strengthening solution is going to be quite an advantage, I'd say. We won't lose so much time sleeping anymore."

"We won't need to sleep?"

"Of course we'll need to sleep, just not as much as we'd have to without the potion."

A flutter of wings made him look up, only to see a cerbain land on Ginny's shoulder. Harry frowned. This did not bode well with him. His companion however, did not seem fazed at all, merely watching the bird with a mix of curiosity and mild fascination.

"It showed up and watched me work. Not an Animagus though. I'm sure of that. Just a bird. It even helped me find that eagle carcass by sitting on it. I took the claws for the strengthening potion, ground them to a powder and mixed that with some milled feline claws."

Harry watched the bird warily, barely noticing how Ginny absentmindedly stroked two of her fingers. The nails had been cut off so far, they were bloody. He registered all of that only in the back of his mind, focusing on the uneasy feeling in his gut, which had now returned with full force. His own voice sounded strangely foreign and forced to his ears when he spoke.

"I think we should move along; Get going, and reach the next city sooner rather than later."

Ginny halted and looked up at him. If it hadn't been for her calculating gaze, he would've thought she didn't catch his subtle hint.

"Okay," she said simply, her expression didn't change for a second – she was a good actress he decided. The bird took off to watch Ginny from the air when she started to calmly, but quickly collect the few of their belongings she'd been using. Harry packed his backpack alongside her, carefully listening to his environment. He couldn't hear anything suspicious right no, but that could change any moment. It took them only minutes to finally set off, but to Harry it felt like ages.

As they crossed the river, the Cerbain was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Ginny had noticed the disappearance as well.

"What about the bird made you so anxious to leave?"

She, too, seemed a little uneasy. Harry took his time to answer, Carefully arranging the words in his head.

"This particular kind of bird, called the Cerbain, has been known to be used as spies by various enemies of the elves."

Ginny nodded, growing somewhat pale under her freckles. As if on an unspoken agreement, they quickened their pace. Silent and swift, they made their way through the undergrowth between the few trees along the river Anduin.

When Harry first heard it, he thought – no, he didn't think anything, he merely refused to believe it was anything other than a trick of the mind. He had to be imagining the sound, he was sure. His imagination was running wild with paranoia. However, with growing horror, he realized: they were being followed.

The rhythmic beat of a horse running steadily grew louder.

"It's that thing." he heard Ginny's terrified whisper, but Harry didn't even think about asking for asking for clarification. His companion's expression mirrored his own, when he glanced at her. She was staring straight ahead, too horrified to risk seeing what followed them. Very briefly, he wondered why he hadn't noticed the nauseating dark atmosphere, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on it. The only thing on his mind was running.

He was rather sure that he wouldn't survive any kind of violent confrontation wih such old and violated magic. The feeling of it made him feel so sick and weak. The sound of hooves pounding on the soft, damp ground got louder, and louder, until it was almost deafening and Harry could hardly distinguish it from his own heartbeat. The sound of undergrowth being shoved out of the way was now directly behind them.

A monstrous black shadow passed over their heads, as the horse jumped over them with a power and an altitude that it should not have possessed. A wave of pain passed through, Harry, when one of the hooves hit the back of his head. He felt himself falling and distantly heard Ginny's scream.

The black rider was looming over them. Harry fought for consciousness, he heard voices, Ginny's and a foreign, harsh voice that seemed to better fit the unholy tongue of the dark lands. He won the fight against the fog threatening to overtake his mind, and his vision cleared with a sudden ferocity, but it was too late: The blunt end of the rider's sword came down on them, undoubtedly to knock them unconscious. Maybe it wanted to abduct and question them about their magic, which – with it' clearly non-middle-earth origin - shone like a beacon to all users of magic. Maybe it just wanted to take them for fun and torture. Harry neither knew nor cared. All thought stopped when there was an earth shattering crack, and all air seemed to be forced out of Harry's Body as blackness took him. The last thing he felt, was Ginny's death grip on his shoulder.

* * *

Thanks for reading, Reviews and Favourites will be very much appreciated :)

mwinter1:

Here you go :)

OnlyBo:

Thank you so much again, for this motivating review! Reckless is what the readers want, reckless is what they'll get ;)

Acolyte of the blood moon:

You spotted her :D Don't be sorry, puns make the world go round. Well I guess you'll fin out?

DanteVirgil09:

Thank you for the nice comment ^-^ Yes, I hope the pacing will pick up a bit, so... faster story, faster chapters I guess ;)

:

Thanks, and yes to both ^^

Bex:

Hehe, creepy is what I was going for, so I'm happy you liked it :)

Spriggan:

Hahaha, that's a brilliant idea, maybe I'll have them do that :'D


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